The Missing
by SmokeyTV
Summary: A search for missing children in a seemingly ordinary neighborhood takes a bad turn when Nick unwittingly becomes a part of the mystery.
1. Chapter 1

****AN: 2/19/12 - Apologies to those of you who are signed up for Story Alerts and received one for this re-publish of Chapter 1. But there was a glaring error on my part in the original and I couldn't let it go, so I thought I would fix it before publishing the final chapter. Don't worry tho...the final chapter is in the works and I'm going to promise you now that it will be up within the week. :-) Thanks again to everyone who is reading and especially those who take the time to leave a little feedback. I appreciate it!****

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><p><strong>I'm back with another multi-chapter story. I hope you enjoy it! :-)<strong>

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><p>Nick Stokes bit his lip, looking out the window of the SUV as Warrick Brown pulled it up to the curb. The sky was gray and it was unusually cool for November, especially in Las Vegas. "Hope it doesn't rain," he said half to himself as both CSIs got out of the vehicle and stepped onto Bryant Street.<p>

The children had been missing for almost a week. Five days had gone by with no sign of the 6 year old girl or the 7 year old boy. By all accounts they had simply vanished into thin air. Allison Ruh's small stuffed tiger, which she took with her everywhere, was found in the grass near the street a half a block away from her home. Sean Elliott's toy NASCAR racer was discovered in his best friend, Danny's, back yard in the dirt where the two boys had fashioned a makeshift race track. The missing children lived across the street from each other in a close-knit neighborhood of older, two story, brick homes on this tree-lined street near downtown. But other than the proximity of their houses, there was nothing to connect one child to the other. Each had disappeared on the same day a few hours apart from each other, but it wasn't until late afternoon that anyone had noticed their absence.

Sean's friend, Danny, said that he and Sean had been playing in his backyard with their cars when Danny was called in to lunch by his mother. The woman had invited the other boy inside to join them, but Sean had declined and said he was going to play awhile longer. That was the last time he was seen that day. As for Allison, the mailman had seen her playing on the sidewalk a few hours later and had stopped to see what she was doing. The little girl had delighted in showing him the ant hill that she was watching, and after she had made him assure her that he would take care not to step on any other ant hills he might come across on his route, he had continued on his way, the last person to see her before she disappeared.

"What are they thinkin' around here, man?" Warrick stood on the sidewalk and looked up and down the street. Several marked and un-marked police vehicles dotted the area, detectives and officers nearby. "Would you let _your_ kids just run around all over the place? Especially at that age?"

"Nope," Nick replied as he pulled on a jacket. He zipped it halfway as he shuddered and took another look at the sky.

"Hold up, guys," Captain Jim Brass called to them from up the block. He turned back to the woman he was speaking with and wrote something in his notebook before putting a hand on her shoulder and then leaving her and walking toward the CSIs. "Allison's mom," he said, nodding back down the street toward the woman who was now making her way back to her house, surrounded by several friends. He turned his attention back to Nick and Warrick and said, "Hey, thanks for helping out." The captain knew they had a full night's shift ahead of them, but they had volunteered to come out beforehand to assist with the search.

The men nodded in acknowledgement before Warrick said, "We were just talking...how come these parents let their little kids run all over around here? No wonder some of 'em go missing."

"Well," Brass said with a sigh as he took a look around the area. "Times have changed, but this old neighborhood is still pretty safe. They keep an eye on each other. It's kinda like...Main Street USA, you know?"

Warrick huffed. "No such thing anymore, Jim. Especially here."

"Yeah...well...seems like the kids still play outside...in each other's yards...that kind of thing. Everybody knows everybody."

"So they would notice any strangers coming around?" Nick asked.

Brass nodded. "The parents all say their kids know better than to talk to anyone they don't know."

"All parents think that. Unfortunately...they're wrong." Warrick picked his kit up off of the sidewalk. "So where do we start?"

"You're not gonna need that." Brass nodded at the kit. "At least not yet."

When the children had first gone missing, it was an all out frenzied search of the neighborhood for clues, but nothing of use had been found. The CSIs had picked up a few incidental items in the area, but after analysis none of them appeared to have anything to do with the case. Detectives had talked to the family, the children's friends, and some of the neighbors, but now with the case almost a week old they had the okay from above to go door to door.

"We don't have any warrants," Brass reminded the CSIs. "We're just talking. Right now there's no probable cause to search any of the houses, but if you see anything suspicious let me know and I'll call it in. Judge Beckett will have us a warrant within the hour."

"Okay, okay..." Warrick put his kit back into his SUV. "So...should I ask? How many registered sex offenders we got around here?"

"More than these folks realize," Brass answered grimly. "But in the immediate area...just one." He looked at his notebook and flipped a few pages before finding what he was looking for. "Clayton Steele...he lives at 704." He looked up and across the street. "Right over there," he said as he pointed to a small house with the curtains drawn shut. "You can start with him, and then why don't you hit 706 and 708 for now? My guys will take this side of the street, and I'll give you a call with a couple more addresses later."

Nick nodded. "Got it. So who else we got over there?" He indicated across the street by tilting his head in that direction.

"706 is a widow...Ruth Bruner...seems like all of the kids hang out at her place a lot...kind of the neighborhood grandma. And 708 is Shelly Southern...divorced...two kids." Brass closed his notebook and put it in his jacket pocket. "Call me if you find anything."

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><p>Nick and Warrick stood on the sidewalk in front of the small house with the number 704 on the front of it. The house had a neat appearance and the yard looked to be well kept. The two CSIs made their way up the walk.<p>

"Curtains are shut," Warrick noted.

"Doesn't want anybody to see what he's doing in there. Nice." As they reached the door Nick raised his hand to knock, but before he had a chance the door flew open.

Clayton Steele stood in front of them, barefoot, wearing a pair of jeans and a black t-shirt with a NASCAR design on the front. Number 88.

"Dale Jr. fan, are you, Mr. Steele?" Nick asked.

"I know why you're here!" the 30 year old man said hurriedly with just a touch of a southern accent. "I didn't have nothin' to do with those kids. Nothin'! They play all around here but they know they ain't supposed to come near my house."

"Or near you, either? Right?" Warrick leaned to the side trying to see inside the house behind the man who was several inches shorter than he was. "You know, I hear Sean Elliott is a NASCAR fan. Last time anyone saw him he was playing with his racecar."

"I don't know nothin' about that," Steele insisted as he tried to shift himself to block the CSI's view into the home.

"No?" Nick now leaned the other way, also looking behind the man. "You two have something in common. You sure you two aren't buddies? How about Allison? She was playing right out here on the sidewalk."

Steele stepped to his left and pulled the door so that it was shut except for the space he stood in. "You got no right to look in here. I ain't done nothin'."

Warrick nodded. "You're right, man. You don't have to let us in if you don't want to. But you know how that looks? Like you got somethin' to hide."

"Something to hide?" the man repeated, his voice getting louder. "Something to _hide_? Man, I got _nothin'_ to hide! They know _everything_ about me...my name, where I work, what I done...my whole fuckin' _life_ is on public record. But let me tell you somethin'...I been clean for three years. No trouble. They didn't want me here in their prissy little neighborhood, but I haven't done nothin' since I got here. Nothin'! Them kids? They stay away. They know better. And so do I." He crossed his arms and stuck his chin out defiantly, refusing to say any more.

"All right, man, all right." Nick held his hand up to the man. "So you're clean...didn't have anything to do with it. Did you see anything? Notice anything? Hear anybody around here talking?"

Steele snorted and shook his head. "Man, weren't you listening? I stay in my house. I don't see nobody...nobody sees me. And they sure as hell don't talk to me."

"Okay, but…"

"But nothing," Steele interrupted. "Get the hell out of here. Get the hell off my property."

Warrick nodded. "Thank you for your time…Mr. Steele." He almost choked over the man's name as he tried to remain professional. He turned and walked away toward the street with Nick following closely behind.

When they reached the sidewalk, Nick asked, "Well...what do you think?"

"I don't know, man." Warrick shook his head and looked back at the house where Clayton Steele continued to stand, staring after them. "He's pretty defensive, and he damn sure didn't want us to see inside the house."

"Yeah," agreed Nick. "And we can't get in there without something pointing to him. You'd think he'd let us in if he was innocent."

"They still got the trash from that week quarantined?"

Nick nodded.

"Let's have another look at it when we get back."

"You got it." Nick looked at the house to the left of Steele's. "All right...let's try this one."

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><p>Contrary to their experience with Clayton Steele, Nick and Warrick had no trouble at all getting into Ruth Bruner's home. The old woman seemed eager for company and insisted that they step inside. Before they knew it the two bemused CSIs were sitting at the table in her kitchen politely refusing her multiple offers of food and drink.<p>

The woman was in her early seventies, but she appeared to be quite healthy and alert. She wore a pair of dirty blue jeans and a flowered smock top. Suddenly self-conscious, she apologized. "Please excuse my appearance. I've been out in the garden today. Haven't had a chance to clean up." She smiled at them. "Are you sure you won't have something to eat or drink? I've got plenty of cookies. Homemade just this morning."

"No, thank you, ma'am," Nick answered.

She sighed heavily as she sat down at the table across from them. "It's a habit, I guess...my morning baking. The children used to have the whole batch eaten by the afternoon. But now..." She shook her head. "Now the neighborhood is so quiet. The parents keep the kids inside all day. I don't blame them. Those poor little dears. There is no news?"

"We can't really discuss that, ma'am," Warrick told her and then asked, "Did Allison and Sean come here for cookies?"

"Oh my, yes! They all did. Up until...well, you know." Ruth stood up and went to the sink to rinse out her coffee cup. She came back and sat down, taking a cookie for herself from the plate on the table. "I have grandkids, you know...but they live far away. The neighborhood kids..." She laughed a little. "They kind of adopted me. They play over here a lot, and the older ones...they help me with my lawn, shovel snow, that sort of thing."

Nick nodded. "What about your other neighbors? Is there anyone you think could have harmed the kids?"

"Oh no!" She exclaimed, shaking her head. "It's such a nice, friendly neighborhood. I've lived here most of my life, and we've never had any trouble...not until now."

Nick and Warrick looked at each other, both of them silently thinking the same thing. The woman had made no mention of the sex offender who lived right next door to her. Nick cleared his throat. "Are you, uh…do you know Mr. Steele next door?"

The woman's smile dropped from her face. "Yes…yes, I know him. Or rather, I know _of_ him. I see him out getting his mail and such, but I've never talked to him. None of us have, I guess. Sometimes I feel ashamed at what an outcast we've made of him, but…" Suddenly her mouth fell open. "Oh dear…no…you don't think…? Do you think he had something to do with this?"

"We're checking out everything, Mrs. Bruner…and everyone," Warrick replied. "We're just looking for some answers…trying to find these kids."

"I know…I know…bless you, boys. I just…" The sound of a cell phone ringing interrupted the woman.

"Excuse me." Nick pulled out his phone and got up from the table, walking toward the living room. "Hey, Jim." A few minutes later he returned to the table as he ended the call and sat down. In a low voice he told Warrick, "That was Brass. They got the rest of the houses. We just have the one left and then we're done."

Warrick nodded and then turned to Ruth. "So, Mrs. Bruner…is there anything else you can think of that might help us?"

She shook her head sadly. "No…I'm sorry. I just hope they're okay and that you find them soon."

"We will," said Nick as he stood up to leave. "Thank you for your time, Mrs. Bruner."

Warrick got up as well, and the woman followed them both to the front door. "Are you sure you wouldn't like a snack to take with you?"

The CSIs smiled at her and politely declined again before leaving the house. At the sidewalk, Warrick said, "This is crazy, man. These people don't know anything. Those kids are long gone from here by now."

"We don't know that." Nick headed for the next house. "C'mon…this is our last one.

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><p>"Yes? What is it?" the 42 year old woman asked impatiently as she answered the door. She looked harried, with a young girl of about 5 hanging onto her leg and tugging at her shirt. When she saw the two men on her step holding out ID badges, she apologized and smiled, running her hands quickly through her messed up hair trying to straighten it out. "What can I do for you?"<p>

Warrick put his ID back into his pocket and said, "We're from the Crime Lab...just want to ask you a few questions about the missing children, Mrs. Southern."

"I'm not 'Mrs.' anything anymore," she replied, annoyed at first, but then she smiled and straightened her hair again before eyeing both men and saying, "You can call me Shelly."

Nick gave Warrick a glance before speaking. "Um...Shelly...do you have..."

"Bailey get _off_ my leg!" She leaned over and detached the child, then pointed into the living room. "Go on in there and play."

The little girl looked up at the CSIs and asked, "Are you the police?"

Warrick laughed and said, "Sort of."

She put a finger in her mouth for a moment and then took it out and spoke again, "Are you gonna find Allison?"

Her mother hushed her and told her to stop bothering the nice men, then shouted into the house, "Scotty! Get out here and take your sister!" A sullen looking boy of about 15 appeared in the kitchen doorway, and she shooed the little girl toward him. He gave her a glare and then followed the child into the kitchen.

"Mrs...Shelly...would you mind if we came in and asked you a few questions?" Warrick asked once the children were out of sight.

"Sure! Sure, come on in!" She stood aside as Nick and Warrick passed by her. "I'm sorry the place is such a mess." She quickly crossed the room in front of them and swept some toys and magazines off of the couch and onto the floor, then kicked them under a table. She smiled at them and gestured toward the couch. "Have a seat." When they did, she sat on a footstool facing them. "So...what did you want to talk about?"

"The missing children," Nick said, raising his eyebrows and trying not to sound as frustrated as he felt by the woman's inattentiveness.

"Oh! Yes! I'm sorry. I'm so scatterbrained these days. Single mother, you know..." She paused, and when neither man said anything she went on. "The little Elliott boy...I've seen him running around the neighborhood and even back in my yard, but I didn't care. A lot of the kids play back there. Allison played with my Bailey some...just outside, really. She never came inside."

"Yes, she did."

The three people in the living room looked up to see Scotty, standing in the doorway. "What's that, son?" asked Warrick.

The teenager leaned against the doorframe and gave his mother a scornful look before answering. "Allison came in here a lot...not like _she_ would know, though."

"Scotty!" His mother gave an embarrassed laugh. "I don't know what he's talking about," she said, clearly flustered.

"Yeah, you do." Scotty turned his attention to the CSIs. "She's never here. Or if she is...she's not alone." When his mother started to protest, he interrupted, "You know it's true. You never know what goes on around here."

"So you've seen Allison here?" asked Nick. "How about Sean? Did he play here too?"

"Nah...just like she said, believe it or not. But Allison came over. She and Bailey always played upstairs with their stuffed animals...up in the attic too."

"The attic?" his mother exclaimed. "Scotty, you're making that up. Those children never went up there. It's too dangerous. I wouldn't allow it!" She turned to the men and repeated, "They never went up there."

"Shelly...if they did...is it possible...maybe Allison went up there and couldn't get back down?" Nick asked.

"They didn't go up there!" she insisted. "He's just trying to get me into trouble! Scotty, _get_ your ass out of here and go watch your sister and _stop_ bothering us!"

The boy snorted and shook his head. "Typical," he muttered as he turned and left the room.

Warrick spoke carefully, trying his best not to use an accusatory tone. "Shelly, maybe we should check the attic."

The divorced mother's demeanor suddenly grew serious, and she stood up. "I'd like you to leave now."

Nick stood up as well. "Ma'am, we aren't accusing you of anything. But if it's possible that the kids were playing up there and Allison got stuck or accidentally locked up there..."

"It's _not_ possible! I told you, I watch the kids. I'm a good mother. If there were kids locked up in my attic I would know about it!" She went to the door and opened it. "Now unless you have a warrant...please leave."

Nick sighed and looked down at Warrick who then stood up and answered, "We'll be back with one. Thank you for your time."

Back on the sidewalk after having Shelly Bruner slam the door behind them, Nick said, "You know no judge is gonna give us a warrant for that attic based on what that kid said."

Warrick nodded as he looked up and down the street. "Yeah...I know," he replied solemnly. "So we're..." He stopped as his cell phone rang. Looking at the display he noted, "Grissom," and then answered it. "Yeah, Gris...what's up?"

While his friend was talking on the phone, Nick turned to look back at the Southern house, noting that there were no windows on the attic, just air vents. As he heard Warrick finish his call, he asked, "What's up?"

"I gotta go. He needs me on a scene. Sara and Cath are each out on solos...can't leave. He's got a double out at the landfill...with missing parts." He sighed with a grimace.

"Sorry, man. Tough break." Nick tried unsuccessfully to hide his grin.

"Yeah, I'll give you a tough break," Warrick kidded back, then added, "Hey, he wants me out there ASAP. You think you could..."

Nick was already waving him off. "Yeah, yeah...I'll catch a ride with Brass." He nodded across the street to where the captain was talking to a couple of uniformed officers.

"All right. Catch you later."

"Have fun!" Nick called after him with a laugh as the other CSI headed to his vehicle.

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><p>"Hey, Gris."<p>

Gil Grissom looked up from his desk to see Warrick standing in the doorway, toweling off his wet hair. The supervisor took off his glasses and set them down. "Good shower?" he asked.

"Yeah," Warrick laughed.

The supervisor wrinkled his nose. "You might want to take another one."

"Aw c'mon! Really?" Warrick lifted his arm and sniffed it. "Shit," he uttered.

"Possibly," Grissom deadpanned.

The CSI scowled in disgust. "That's just wrong, man." He came into the office and sat down across from Grissom. "So what do you have Nick doing? I told him we'd go through that pervert's trash tonight."

Grissom looked at him blankly. "I don't have him doing anything. Haven't seen him. I figured he was still out with Brass."

"Doing what?" Warrick asked, confused.

"Talking to witnesses? Canvassing the neighborhood? I don't know, Warrick, it's not my case." He put his glasses on and went back to his paperwork. "Have you tried calling him?" He asked without looking up. When Warrick pulled his cell phone out and started to dial, Grissom added, "From somewhere else?"

"All right…all right…" Warrick got up and left the room, his phone to his ear. When he heard Nick's voicemail pick up, he rolled his eyes as he paced the hallway. "Figures." He left a message and then disconnected the call and punched Brass' number in. After several rings, he got an answer.

"Mmm…'ello?"

"Brass? Warrick. Hey, where are you?"

There was a coughing sound followed by the gruff voice of the captain. "In bed…where the hell else should I be at this time of night after a double shift?"

Warrick was less worried about having awakened the man than he was about the fact that he was pretty sure Nick was not with him. "Sorry, Jim…but…I can't get a hold of Nick. I thought maybe he was still with you…workin' or somethin'."

Brass yawned and then sighed heavily into the phone, slightly more alert now. "Still with me? I haven't seen him since I talked to you guys on Bryant Street. When I left, I didn't see your car so I figured you guys finished up and left too."

"No, man…I got called away on a double homicide and Nick said he was gonna catch a ride back with you. You didn't see him or talk to him?" When Brass said that he hadn't, Warrick continued, "Well, he hasn't come back to the lab…and he's not answering his phone. Jim…that was ten hours ago…and he didn't have a car. Where the fuck is he?"

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><p><strong>You all knew this was where we were headed, didn't you? ;-) Well, I hope you enjoyed the first chapter enough to keep reading! Make sure you're signed up for Story Alerts so you know when a new chapter is added. And I love hearing feedback, so please leave a review so I know someone is reading. Thanks!<strong>


	2. Chapter 2

**I meant to add before that this story takes place around Season 3. :-)**

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><p>"<em>No, man…I got called away on a double homicide and Nick said he was gonna catch a ride back with you. You didn't see him or talk to him?" When Brass said that he hadn't, Warrick continued, "Well, he hasn't come back to the lab…and he's not answering his phone. Jim…that was ten hours ago…and he didn't have a car. Where the fuck is he?" <em>

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><p>The smell of stale, cold dirt reached his senses before the pain in his body could register, but once it did it overtook Nick with a vengeance. He cursed under his breath, trying to orient himself and remember what had happened, but darkness encompassed him even after he opened his eyes. The quiet served to convince him that at least he was safe for now, wherever he was, but still he felt the need to move. He was lying face down, his right arm outstretched above his head and his left arm wedged underneath him. He raised his head but quickly laid it back down again with a groan as the movement brought with it nausea and sharp pains throughout his head. He lay quietly for a moment, breathing hard, waiting for the feelings to pass, but they only partially subsided.<p>

He took a deep breath and then slowly tried to turn over onto his right side but found himself blocked by something rough and cold, his back pressing up against it. He paused again, face down, trying to catch his breath which had suddenly become more labored with his efforts to move, and then tried to shift himself onto his left side. He quickly realized that was a mistake when the increased weight on his left arm caused sudden and excruciating pain throughout the limb. "Jesus fuckin' Christ!" he cried out as he collapsed face down once again. _Must be broken, damn it._

Knowing there was no way he could just stay that way, face down and vulnerable to whatever might come next, Nick gathered his strength and tried again, this time using his right arm to push himself up off of the ground and almost to a sitting position before he turned and lay back down, this time on his back. He would have much preferred to have stayed upright, but exhaustion from the exertion caused his body to make the decision for him. At least now he was face up, although still disoriented. His left arm was now lying across his middle, and he ran his right hand along it gently, trying to gauge how bad the injury might be. He found no open wounds, but the length between his elbow and wrist was swollen, tender to the touch, and his left hand refused to move. _Shit._

As he lay on the cold dirt, he felt the aching in his head come alive again. He put his right hand to his forehead and winced at the sting it caused, pulling his hand away and finding it slick with what he assumed was blood. He sniffed and used the back of his hand to wipe under his nose where he found more wetness that ran down across his lips. He sighed and closed his eyes, but as he felt himself slipping away into a blissfully pain-free place, he forced his eyes open again. He had to stay awake…aware…and he could not do it lying flat on his back.

Nick felt the area along his side. Rough and cold all the way up it appeared to be a stone wall, crumbling in small places. Placing his right hand next to him on the ground, he braced himself and then pushed up. As his body lifted, he scooted back until he was supported by the wall, and finally ended up sitting with his back against it, his legs extended in front of him. He leaned back, relishing in the support and the feeling of being less vulnerable in this position. But still, no matter how long he stared into it, the darkness did not give way to anything. He cursed himself for not wearing his vest, even though Brass had said they would not need any of their gear. "Can always use a flashlight," he muttered and then laughed a little, which scared him a lot. _What the hell happened?_ He remembered talking to neighbors with Warrick, and then Warrick left. Nick was going to catch up with Brass, and then he had…had what? _Damn it, Nick…what did you do then?_ He let out a frustrated sigh, feeling the urge to sleep again starting to overtake him. But he suddenly started to attention as a rustling sound emerged from the darkness.

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><p>"You guys were supposed to find those <em>kids<em>, not go out there and _lose_ someone else!" Sheriff Rory Atwater threw a case file onto the table and continued pacing angrily back and forth in he front of the conference room at the LVPD crime lab. Seated around the table were the CSIs from the grave shift as well as Captain Brass.

"C'mon, Rory," Brass said. "You know we didn't mean for this to happen."

"Oh, well…as long as you didn't _mean_ for it to happen!" The sheriff rolled his eyes and then planted his hands down on the table as he leaned over it and eyed the captain. "Do you know how this _looks_, Jim? I've got a bunch of scared citizens out there who won't let their kids out of their sight and two sets of parents wondering if their kids are ever coming home! And now we've got a _CSI_…on a street full of _cops_…disappearing!"

Before the captain could say anything, Grissom spoke up. "Sheriff, with all due respect, right now I'm not really concerned about how it looks. The important thing is finding these kids and finding Nick."

"Grissom," Atwater responded evenly, "I'm not sure yet that I'm going to even give you the chance to do that."

"What?"

"Your team screwed this up!" the sheriff exploded. "And it's not the first time either, is it?" he added, looking pointedly at Warrick.

"Hey…wait just a minute." Warrick's voice was tinged with anger, his green eyes narrowed.

Atwater stood with his arms crossed. "You left a rookie alone on a scene and she was killed. You left your partner alone in a suspect's house and he was shoved out of a second story window, for God's sake. And now…now you left him alone on a scene and he's disappeared." Before the furious CSI could protest, Atwater continued, "And Grissom. What the hell? You're the _supervisor_, and you don't even notice…for _ten_ _hours_…that one of your guys is unaccounted for?" As Grissom opened his mouth to say something the sheriff held up a hand. "Save it. Jim…what about you? How many cops did you have on that street? And this guy goes missing and no one notices a thing? How safe do you think that makes the people on that street feel? Huh?"

Grissom, Brass, and Warrick each wore their emotions on their faces, but they did not speak. Catherine and Sara, the only two at the table who had not been singled out by the sheriff, looked at each other for a moment before Catherine spoke cautiously. "Okay, can we just…where are we now?"

Sara straightened up in her chair and answered, "Warrick and I went back out there with Brass and the dog team. They picked up Nick's scent at the curb where their car was before Warrick left…followed it to the three houses where they interviewed some neighbors, but…that's it."

"Just like the kids," Warrick added grimly. "Disappeared without a trace."

"That doesn't happen," said Atwater pointedly. "Where are they?"

"They have to still be in the neighborhood," Catherine offered up.

"Catherine…" The sheriff walked around the table to stand behind her and leaned over as he spoke. "You're a _C_…_S_…_I_." He emphasized each letter. "You know as well as I do what evidence like this means."

She nodded her head and sighed. "The trail disappeared. The victims disappeared. Moved in a vehicle?"

"Aw c'mon!" Warrick exclaimed. "You think someone came into this neighborhood…unnoticed…_three_ _times_…and made off with two kids and a CSI? That's crazy."

"You tell me what happened then," Atwater challenged him. "Either Stokes _floated_ out of there or he's at one of those houses that _you_ already cleared!"

Warrick's expression turned into a snarl. "We didn't clear _anything_. Without a warrant our hands were tied!"

The sheriff reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a piece of paper. "Fine. You've got one now. Get back out there."

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><p>Nick knew the first thought that should have entered his mind when he heard the rustling in the darkness was the children. But he had to admit that it came in second after the fear of rats or snakes or some other unseen creature lurking in the dank, dark space. He pushed the thought away, and keeping his injured left arm against his body he felt around with his other hand for his radio and cell phone. Not surprisingly, he found nothing.<p>

_His phone was missing. Nick had started to cross the street to meet up with Brass but stopped when he noticed that the captain was no longer there. His car was still parked at the curb, however, so Nick decided to give him a call on his cell phone rather than try to track him down. But as he reached for his phone he found nothing there. "Damn it." He felt all around in his pockets but still came up empty. He looked up and scanned the row of three houses that he had just finished investigating with Warrick. He then pulled his jacket closer around him in the chilly air and looked up at the sky as he began to walk toward Ruth Bruner's home. More grey clouds had moved in. "If this wasn't Vegas I'd think it was gonna snow," he said to himself, putting his hands in his pockets. _

_The old woman looked surprised when she answered the door but quickly put on a smile and asked sweetly, "Is there something else I can do for you? Did you change your mind about the cookies?"_

_Nick smiled back. "No, thank you, ma'am. I think I might have left my cell phone on your table when I took that call though."_

_"Oh...really?" She turned and looked back toward the kitchen. "I hadn't noticed. Let me get that for you."_

_"Don't bother, Mrs. Bruner. I can get it." He stepped past her and headed through the living room._

_"Um...well...okay...I guess...I didn't see it. I guess it's there." She followed him to the kitchen where the phone sat on the table next to the plate of cookies._

_Nick picked up the phone and gave her a quick glance before hooking it into the clip on his belt. He didn't want to embarrass her. She seemed flustered, and he thought maybe her senses weren't really as sharp as she had led them to believe in their first conversation. "Mrs. Bruner? Are you okay?"_

_"Yes! Yes! My yes! I just...I don't know why I didn't see that." She sat down at the table and put her hand to her forehead. "I have a touch of a headache...must have gardened out in the sun a bit too much this morning." She gave a small, embarrassed laugh. "I believe I'll have a little lemonade," she said as she stood back up. "Would you...? No...no..." She shook her head. "I know you're very busy. I'll let you be on your way." She started toward the living room, expecting Nick to follow her, but he stayed put._

_"Mrs. Bruner...you said that the neighborhood kids played here a lot...in the house?" When she nodded, he continued, "One of your other neighbors told us that some of the kids played in her house too...might have even played in the attic. Did any of them do that here? Play in the attic or basement...a closet maybe?"_

_She stepped back into the kitchen and appeared to think about the question before answering, "Well...I suppose it's possible. They did play hide and seek a lot. An old house like this...lots of places for little ones to hide."_

_"We were just thinking...maybe one of the kids played or hid someplace like that and got stuck...couldn't get out. Have you checked your attic or basement?"_

_"Oh mercy, no!" The woman laughed. "I haven't been in those places in years...can't make the steps up_ or _down." Nick nodded in response, and she added, "You're welcome to look though...if you want to make sure."_

_Nick raised his eyebrows, surprised at the offer after having been rebuked so harshly at Shelly __Southern's __house. "Sure...if you don't mind. That would help a lot...to eliminate some places that they might be."_

_He started with the attic. The stairs leading up were not steep but were many, and Nick could easily understand why the old woman had not made a habit of going up there. But from the dust on the floor and on the objects found there, he realized that the children had not been there either. No one had in quite a long time._

_The basement was a different story. Located off a pantry next to the kitchen, the door was covered with smudges and small fingerprints. Once downstairs, Nick couldn't help but smile at the homemade fort in the center of the room. Two old chairs and a ragged blanket provided the secret cover some child had needed while playing with the small, plastic soldiers that were still on the floor there._

_Nick climbed the stairs back up and went to the kitchen where Mrs. Bruner was sitting at the table. "It looks like they did go into the basement...at least some kids did at some point."_

_A flush crossed the woman's face and she apologized. "I'm sorry. I...I guess I should have paid more attention to them. But sometimes...__well...I'll admit...sometimes I lie down on the couch and I've fallen asleep at times while they were here. I know that's wrong...the parents trust me to look after them, but...well..." She lowered her head. "I guess I'm getting too old for that."_

_"I'm sure you took good care of the kids when they were here," Nick tried to reassure her. "Don't worry...we'll find them."_

_She looked up at him. "And when you do...you'll take them back home...won't you?"_

_Nick looked puzzled, but nodded. "Yeah...of course." He thought that she looked a bit sad sitting at the table now...lonely...and he felt some sympathy for her but knew he had to leave or he would be late for his shift. "Mrs. Bruner, I'm going to need to get going now, but if you..." He suddenly stopped speaking as he had been reaching for his cell phone to call Brass when he noticed something odd. He looked up at the wall where a tall, wire, bakers rack stood. The contents were sparse...just two ceramic cookie jars and three small potted violets. But what got his attention was the small crack in the wall behind it that ran from the floor all the way up to just about his height and then over to the right where it ended just barely behind the refrigerator. He cocked his head to the side a little and moved closer, squinting as he examined the crack._

_Mrs. Bruner stood up and walked around the table to where Nick stood. "What do you see?" she asked._

_Nick turned to her and pointed at the wall. "Ma'am, is that a pantry or something?"_

"_Oh, mercy! That's the root cellar!" She laughed. "I plumb near forgot it was there! Hasn't been used in at least ten years. Lord knows what might be down there."_

"_Mmm hmm…" Nick said thoughtfully, stepping back from the wall a little and looking at her. "Could the kids have gone down there? I mean, they played in the basement, so…"_

_The old woman shook her head and scoffed, "No…oh, no…they wouldn't even know it was there, I'm sure of it. Besides, the rack is in the way. They would have to move it and then someone would have to move it back…no…I don't think so."_

"_Well…" Nick crouched down and examined the floor under the bakers rack. "It looks like that might be what happened." He looked up at her. "This has been moved recently."_

_She leaned over to see where he was now pointing. A thin film of dusty grease coated the edge of the kitchen floor under the rack. She stood up straight then, a stern look on her face, and said, "I told you…I'm getting old. I don't hear well and I don't see well. I missed a spot…didn't get the mop under there very well, I guess…but just because it's dirty…that doesn't mean anything."_

"_But Mrs. Bruner, see this area here? Right here by the legs are these clean streaks where the rack has been moved." Nick stood up as well. "Recently."_

_The two looked at each other silently for a moment before Mrs. Bruner smiled again. "I really don't think that's what happened. Wouldn't a child trapped down there yell for help? Or bang on the door trying to get out?"_

"_You just said you don't hear very well," Nick countered. "Or maybe one of them fell down the stairs…the others got scared and left them there…moved the rack back into place to hide what happened."_

_The woman sighed. "You want to look down there, don't you?"_

"_I think we should."_

"_If you think so, then…okay. But please be careful." Mrs. Bruner began taking the jars and plants off of the rack. "The stairs are very narrow…and very steep. That's one of the reasons I haven't been down there in so long. I just can't make it."_

"_I'll be careful," Nick said as he helped her with the last flower pot and then easily slid the rack away from the wall. He could now make out the ridges of the hinges behind the refrigerator. The position of the appliance left just enough room for the cellar door to swing open after he wedged his fingers between it and the wall. A stale, dank smell emerged from the dark space when the door opened. He felt along the rough, stone wall for a light switch._

"_There's a bulb over the stairs…about halfway down," Mrs. Bruner said. "You'll have to reach up and pull the chain when you get there. But please…be careful."_

_He nodded and started down the narrow steps. The woman was right. They were steep and small, and he had to take them slowly as his feet barely fit on each one. The walls on either side of him were so close that his shoulders sometimes touched the rocky surface. He made it down to where she had said the light was and began to grope in the darkness for the chain to turn it on._

"_Do you think you'll find them?" Mrs. Bruner asked from behind him._

"_We will, ma'am. Don't worry."_

"_And…you'll take them? When you find them? You'll take them away?"_

_Nick felt the chain slip across the back of his hand and out of reach. He fumbled for it again as he answered her. "Take them away? Well…yeah…I'll take them home…back to their parents…where they belong."_

"_Where they belong?"_

_With one arm extended over his head, he didn't respond as his fingers finally found the light chain and began to twist around it so that he could pull it, but he didn't get the chance. There were no more words from behind him…no warning…no sound…just a sudden, fierce shove in the middle of his back that sent his vulnerably positioned body violently down into the pitch black darkness._

* * *

><p><strong>Sorry it took so long for a second chapter! That's probably going to be the pace for this one, but don't worry...I won't leave it unfinished! Thank you so much to everyone who has read and especially the reviewers! I really appreciate it! :-)<strong>_  
><em>


	3. Chapter 3

_With one arm extended over his head, he didn't respond as his fingers finally found the light chain and began to twist around it so that he could pull it, but he didn't get the chance. There were no more words from behind him…no warning…no sound…just a sudden, fierce shove in the middle of his back that sent his vulnerably positioned body violently down into the pitch black darkness._

Nick put his hand to his head as the memory of what happened slowly came back to him. He stretched his legs out farther and met resistance, confirming his suspicion about his location. At the bottom of the steep cellar stairs there was a distance of just a couple of feet before reaching the stone wall. He realized that as he had pitched forward off of the stairs he must have come down on his left arm, his head hitting the wall. But at least he was awake and moving. "Can't be too bad then," he said out loud as he wiped again at the wetness on his face. He leaned back against the wall and sighed, closing his eyes. He knew he needed to figure out what was going on...to try to get out of there...but to rest for just a moment was too tempting to his aching body.

As he felt himself slipping away into unconsciousness again, he suddenly was wide awake and on alert again as he heard more rustling in the darkness. This time he could pinpoint its location. The noise was coming from in front of him and to the right, far enough away that the sound was faint but close enough that he was definitely sure that he wasn't just hearing things. "Hello? Is anyone there?" The only answer he got was more rustling sounds. "Allison? Sean?" The noise stopped. "Hey...kids?" Nick softened his voice. "I'm just here to help you. Are you here?" Nothing.

Whatever it was had stopped moving, and Nick decided that he wasn't going to just sit there and wait in the darkness with it. He sat up straighter, pulling his legs closer and pushed off the ground with his good arm, using the wall behind him for support. It was difficult getting into a standing position this way. He could feel the rough surface of the wall scraping his back as he arose. Once he was upright, he leaned back and closed his eyes, breathing heavily. The effort to get up along with the nausea and headache almost brought him down to the ground again, but he held steady for a moment until he felt like he could move again. He stepped forward, slowly, not sure of exactly how much room he had before he would meet the bottom of the stairs. After a couple of steps, however, he realized that he wasn't going to be able to stay up without fainting or throwing up. He put his right arm out in front of him and felt as he bent over, reaching out until at last…there were the stairs.

Nick maneuvered himself around until he was sitting as best he could on the lowest of the small steps. He grimaced and pulled his left arm closer as he held it across the front of his body and then pushed off the step with his good arm. Continuing to do so, he gradually made his way backward up the stairs one at a time. There was no way to tell if he had gone far enough. He tried to remember coming down the stairs. How many were there total? How far was halfway? He could only make a good educated guess and hope that he was right, for he didn't think he had the energy to stand up for very long, flailing for the light chain.

He made sure his feet were as far back on the step as they could be and then felt for the wall to his right. Taking a deep breath, he slowly stood up, using the wall for support and trying his best to stay steady. Once upright, he hesitantly moved his hand away from the wall and reached over his head. He made the mistake of looking up as well, which only made him dizzy, so he lowered his head and continued to grasp the air above him. After several tries he was finally rewarded with the feeling of the chain across his hand, but it was slightly behind him and still a little too high up to reach. _Damn it._ He was almost able to grab it, but not quite. Rather than risk falling by stepping up, he sat down again to rest before moving up one more step. He repeated the previous process to stand up, although he could feel his strength waning. _Just a little farther_, he thought desperately as he stretched high and felt around in the dark emptiness. And suddenly there it was…the chain was within his grasp. He clutched it tightly and pulled.

* * *

><p>This early morning didn't look much different than the previous afternoon. The air was cool and the sky grey, and the normally quiet neighborhood was still crawling with cops. But it <em>was<em> different. Even without noticing that the number of searchers had more than doubled since yesterday, it would be hard to deny that something had changed. The addition of the CSI to the missing had thrown off everyone involved, and the longer the investigation went on the more mysterious it became.

As Brass stood near his car waiting for Grissom and Catherine to pull up, Warrick paced anxiously on the sidewalk. "C'mon...c'mon..." he muttered.

"Hey, Rick...calm down. We're gonna get in there and we're gonna find him," Brass tried to reassure the man.

Warrick stopped pacing and pointed at the house at 704 Bryant Street. Clayton Steele's house. "Him," he said with a scowl. "_He's_ the one I want. Asshole was hiding something'...we _knew_ it when we were here before and couldn't do a damn thing about it!"

By now Grissom and Catherine had joined them. "Okay," Catherine said with a sigh, looking around the area. "So the dogs followed Nick's trail from the curb to..." She looked at Warrick. "Which houses are they?"

"_That_ one..." He pointed to Steele's house. "That's where Steele lives. He wouldn't even let us in. I'm starting there."

"I'll join you on that one," Brass said. "Gil...Catherine...you can take 708. That's..." He looked at his notepad. "Shelly Southern. How'd that one go, Rick?"

Warrick snorted. "She's a ditz...flirty...got a smart mouthed kid and a little one that played with Allison. She let us in but got pretty defensive when we wanted to check out the attic."

"Sounds like a good place to start then." Grissom picked up his kit. "Where else?"

Brass nodded at the house in the middle. "706...Ruth Bruner."

"Old lady," said Warrick as he started for Steele's house. "Stop in there for some snacks before you head back." He called over his shoulder.

Warrick and Brass approached Clayton Steele's home and found him waiting for them on the front step. "Deja vu," Warrick offered in the form of a greeting.

The captain pointed to his badge. "Jim Brass...LVPD."

The man stood up. "I know you have a warrant...word's all over the neighborhood that you think I had something to do with this too."

"Hey, man, all I know is we only went to a few places and yours was one of 'em." Warrick's eyes narrowed as he noticed the curtains were still shut, but the front door was standing wide open.

"Go on in. I don't give a shit." Steele stood aside. "I never saw the guy after you all left."

"Oh yeah? We'll have a look anyway, Mr. Steele," said Brass as he led the way into the man's home with Warrick following close behind.

"Look all you want." Steele entered the house as well accompanied by a uniformed officer.

"All right, Mr. Steele...why don't you have a seat there on the couch, huh? Now you're gonna stay out of the way..." Brass motioned to the officer who came to stand next to the sofa. "And be cooperative. Right?"

"Sure...whatever." The man waved him off as Warrick got to work.

* * *

><p>Just like Clayton Steele, Shelly Southern knew the CSIs were coming to search her home, and she had the door open almost before Grissom and Catherine had reached it. However, her expectant expression dropped when she saw them.<p>

"Shelly Southern?" Catherine inquired.

The woman turned her nose up and looked at the CSI with disdain. "Yeah?"

"We're from the crime lab. I'm Catherine Willows and this is Gil Grissom."

Shelly looked Catherine up and down once and then turned her attention to Grissom. "I knew someone was coming. I thought it would be those two guys who were here yesterday." She looked past them and saw only a uniformed officer with them. "Aren't they coming back?"

"Um, no, Mrs. Southern. After they left, one of them went missing. That's why we're here," Grissom said.

"Oh." She sighed with disappointment. "Well…" She smiled at him now. "Come on in then. And like I told them…I'm not 'Mrs.' anything anymore. Call me Shelly."

Grissom pursed his lips and pushed his glasses up. "Okay…Shelly." He turned and looked at Catherine who was biting back a laugh. "Coming, Catherine?"

"After you," she replied and then watched as he entered the house. She started forward herself, but Shelly stepped in front of her to follow Grissom inside. Catherine shook her head and rolled her eyes before going inside.

The living room was just as messy as when Warrick and Nick had been there, but there was no sign of her children. "Please…sit down," Shelly offered as she took a seat on the sofa.

"We really don't have time to sit," said Catherine as she put on a pair of latex gloves.

The woman gave her a glare and turned her attention to Grissom. "Can I get you anything?"

"No, ma'am," he answered and then looked at the officer who had accompanied them. "Officer, would you…?" He nodded toward the woman and the officer went to stand by her.

She laughed nervously. "Am I under arrest or something?"

"No ma'am," Grissom said. "Uh…" He looked around the room. "I heard you have some children?"

She nodded. "Bailey and Scotty. They're at school. Bailey's just a half day though, so I need to pick her up in a few hours."

"We'll see if we can get you out of here by then." He continued to speak to her as he opened his kit and began removing items.

"Look…like I told those guys…I'm a good mom, you know? I mean…sometimes I get a little distracted, but I didn't do anything to those kids and I didn't _lose_ any kids in my house, you know?"

Grissom ignored her comments and asked, "Shelly…did you see either of the CSIs again after they left your house?"

"No. Well…" She hesitated.

"Well?" Grissom raised his eyebrows.

"I watched them…out the window, you know? After they left."

Catherine stood next to Grissom now, looking down at the woman. "And what did you see?"

"Nothing. I mean…they stood out there talking. One of them…the tall, black guy…he was on his phone…and then…the other one turned around and was looking back here. I got away from the window then." She looked up at Grissom. "I wasn't spyin' or nothin'. I just…ah, hell, fuck it. They were hot." She lowered her head.

Grissom cleared his throat and glanced at Catherine before speaking. "Ma'am…we heard the children might have liked to play in your attic. We'd like to start there…if you don't mind.

* * *

><p>Four hours after entering Clayton Steele's home, Warrick walked back into the living room, exhausted, and tore off his latex gloves. Every possible corner of the house had been examined with no sign of the missing children or CSI. Every possible surface had been sprayed with luminol with no evidence of blood anywhere, although the man's bedroom lit up with signs of significant and probably frequent sexual activity.<p>

"Nothin'...right?" Steele asked smugly.

Warrick walked over to where the man was still sitting on the couch and glared down at him. "I got a hell of a lot of samples from your bedroom, Mr. Steele. You'd better hope they're all yours."

The smug attitude on the sex offender's face was quickly replaced with anger. "I told you. I don't mess around. Period. I got too many people around here hassling me and spying on me to be draggin' any kids in here. And in case you're wonderin'...I ain't into dudes either. That guy never came back here."

Warrick ignored him and walked out the front door where Brass was just finished a phone call.

"Get anything?" The captain snapped the phone shut.

The CSI shook his head, clearly upset. "I just know this guy ain't as clean as he's playing like he is. But..." He put his hands on his hips and looked back through the open door. "I didn't find a thing. Not one clue."

"He could be telling the truth, Rick."

"Yeah...I don't know...maybe that divorced chick went all psycho and had something to do with it. Any word from there?"

"They're still working on it," Brass replied. "I just talked to Sara. She'll be here in a minute, so she can help you out at the Bruner house."

"Nothing at the lab either, huh?"

The captain shook his head grimly. "No. They went through all of the trash again that was sequestered from the neighborhood the day the kids went missing…still didn't find anything."

Warrick looked up the street and saw Sara's SUV approaching. "What about Nick's phone?"

"Still going to voice mail. And there's been no hit on the GPS. Archie's gonna keep at it though."

"Damn it!" Warrick kicked at the curb and then began pacing, waiting for Sara as she parked the car and got out.

"Hey guys," she greeted them. "Something left for me to do, I hope?"

"Yeah…yeah…" Warrick stopped pacing and rubbed a hand across his face. "You can come with me to the third house. I've already done one, and Cath and Grissom are…" As he started to point toward the house he saw the two CSIs exiting. "Hey," Warrick greeted them as they made their way over to the little group. "Anything?"

"Just one hell of a horny divorcee," Catherine smirked, looking sideways at Grissom.

"Yeah, I already knew that." Warrick rolled his eyes.

Grissom opened the back of his SUV and put his kit away inside. "We didn't find anything. We checked out the attic, the basement, closets…everywhere. All clean. Her, ah…bedroom had a lot of evidence though."

"Huh!" Warrick huffed. "His too." He jerked his head toward Steele's house and held up an evidence bag full of swabs.

"I'll get those back to the lab ASAP with ours." Grissom took the bag from Warrick and put it in the car with his kit, then slammed the door shut. "Catherine? You coming?"

"No," she answered, hands on her hips and surveying the area. "You guys are getting the last house?" She looked at Warrick and Sara. When they said that they were, she said, "Okay…I'm gonna have another look around out here. If he's not at the houses, then there _has_ to be some clue…some evidence…out here of what happened to him."

"All right, but I'm staying with you," said Brass. "So are they." He indicated toward two of the uniformed officers. "Mitch…you go with Warrick and Sara."

* * *

><p>Ruth Bruner sat at her kitchen table, tapping her fingers. She picked a cookie up from the plate that was sitting there and then put it down again. Too many cookies. There were always too many cookies these days.<p>

_She was scared. So, so scared. She had only one chance to do this and do it right or she could lose everything. It was dark and she was so close. He was reaching up high over his head with one hand, and the other…he wasn't holding on to anything. And she summoned all of her strength and might and did it. One hard, swift shove to the middle of his back was all it took to knock him off balance and send him flying off of the steep, narrow steps and into the darkness below._

_She heard a surprised gasp as he realized he was falling but it only took mere seconds before the next sound she heard was that of his body hitting the ground at the bottom of the stairs. She stood still for several minutes, afraid to move, listening for any sounds from below. But there were none. She hoped she hadn't killed him, but it had to be done. He was getting too close. He had to be stopped._

_After hearing nothing for some time, she reached into the pocket of her flowered smock top and pulled out a small flashlight. She hadn't been lying to him. She was afraid of the steps and it was too risky for her to reach for the light. She had learned that lesson once before at the expense of a broken ankle. So now she always carried a flashlight. She turned it on and aimed it at the bottom of the stairs, just to be sure. He was face down…not moving. Still, she waited with the light on him. After a moment, she cautiously put one hand against the stone wall, the other using the flashlight to guide her as she very slowly and carefully descended the stairs. Once at the bottom, she warily reached out to touch him._

_He wasn't dead. She wasn't sure if that made her feel better or worse, but it was what it was. She had to move quickly. She had seen him put his cell phone back into the clip on his belt, so she knew where that was. It was easy to unsnap the case and slide the phone out. The radio next to it was almost as easy and it too soon found its way into the pocket of her smock. Now there was just one more thing. His gun._

_She wasn't fond of weapons…had never owned or ever wanted to own a gun…and she didn't like the idea of having to touch one. But there was no way she could leave it here. She moved around to the other side of his body and shined the light that way, illuminating the automatic weapon on his belt. She reached out and tentatively placed two fingers on the grip. With a deep breath she decided to just get it over with and grabbed the gun and pulled. But it would not come out of the holster. She pulled again and then a third time with even more vigor, but it did not budge. Even worse, he had begun to moan as her efforts jostled his body. Fearful of waking him, she hurried, tugging on his shirt until his body had shifted just enough so that she could reach the buckle on his belt. She held the flashlight under one arm as she needed both hands to get the belt undone. The light danced across the wall and the floor as she worked quickly, finally rewarded by the ease in which she was able to slide the belt out of the loops and take it off along with the gun and holster. She grabbed the items as his body settled face down again and he began to stir. She made her way carefully back up the stairs and closed the door behind her._

_Once back in her kitchen, she sat at the table contemplating what to do. This turn of events was completely unexpected, and she had to think of something before they came looking for him, for she knew it wouldn't be long. She looked around the room, trying to get an idea, and her eyes settled on the garbage can. They had taken everyone's garbage the day the children went missing, but...tomorrow was collection day. If she was lucky, it might just turn out all right._

_She needed the gun. She knew they would eventually want into her house to search, but they were looking for a person. A small amount of space was all she would need for this. And she knew exactly where that space was. Upstairs in her bedroom, she knelt on the floor holding a butter knife in her hand. She lifted up the corner of the braided rug on which her dresser sat and felt around for the board she wanted. Finally one gave a little, and she put the edge of the knife under it and pulled it up. The board popped out easily, and she quickly stowed the gun and belt in the space and then replaced the board and the rug._

_Once back downstairs, she put the radio and the cell phone into a plastic grocery bag and tied it off, then put that bag into another bag and tied it off. She placed both bags into the garbage can and then snapped the lid down tight before dragging it out the back door and to the alley for pickup. She looked up and down the alley both ways before turning around and heading back to her house. But she had taken only a few steps before she stopped in her tracks._

_The garbage can was ringing. Or more precisely, the cell phone stashed in the can was ringing. She cursed herself for being a stupid old woman and not thinking of that. Of course they were trying to call him. And she knew that they would be able to track the location of the phone. And even if that didn't happen until it was at the landfill…she didn't have time to cover her tracks. Her fingerprints were on the items and they were in her trash._

_She went back to the can and opened it, then dug down until she found the bag she wanted. She pulled it out and tore it open. Sitting on a nearby bench, she used a large geode from her garden to smash open the radio and take the battery out. She then did the same with the phone. She wasn't exactly sure how these things worked, but she knew one thing. They didn't work without a battery. Satisfied, she placed the pieces of the items back into the bags and tied them off again, then buried them deep inside the garbage can of Clayton Steele next door. A little extra caution couldn't hurt._

* * *

><p>"I <em>really<em> hope we ain't comin' out of this house with any swabs." Warrick knocked on the door of the old woman's home.

Sara would have laughed if the situation weren't so serious. But she did smile when the door opened. "Mrs. Bruner? I'm Sara Sidle from the crime lab. I think you've met Warrick?"

"Yes! Yes…come in…come in." The woman opened the door wide and let the two CSIs and Officer Mitchell walk past her into the house. "I heard from the neighbors that you might be back. What can I help you with?"

"Go ahead and have a seat there, ma'am," said Warrick as he motioned toward the couch. After she was seated, he continued, "We're looking for my partner, Nick Stokes…the guy who was with me when we were here before."

"Oh dear…what do you mean?"

"He's disappeared, ma'am. You didn't happen to see him again after we left, did you?" He was shocked when the woman nodded. "You did?"

"Tell us what happened, Mrs. Bruner," said Sara as she took a seat next to the woman.

"Well…not long after you left, the doorbell rang. And it was him. He wondered if he'd left his phone here." She chuckled. "Mercy…I don't know anything about those things. I didn't even notice, but he was right. It was on the kitchen table the whole time."

"So…he got the phone and left?" Warrick sat down in a chair opposite the couch.

"No…no. We started talking, and he mentioned the neighbors and how some of them said the children played in the attic. I…he asked if they did that here, and I…I'm ashamed to say I had to tell him I wasn't sure." She looked from one CSI to the other before continuing. "I try to keep a good eye on them, but…I fall asleep sometimes, you know, and they just…they run around and play."

Sara nodded sympathetically. "So what happened?"

"I asked him if he wanted to look and be sure. He said maybe they got hurt or stuck, you know. So I let him go up into the attic and down into the basement. I can show you if you want."

"We'll get to that ma'am," said Warrick. "Did he find anything?"

She shook her head. "No…no…well, in the basement…he said they had been down there at some time. But he didn't find anything else. He left then. I'm sorry…I don't know where he went after that."

"It's okay." Sara patted her hand. "You've been a big help. We're just gonna take a look around now. You wait here with Officer Mitchell, okay? We'll try to be quick."

"Can I get you something to eat or drink?" the woman offered.

"No, ma'am. We're fine. C'mon, Sara." Warrick stood up and headed out of the room.

A couple of hours later, the three of them sat at Mrs. Bruner's kitchen table while Mitch stood nearby.

"I'm sorry you didn't find anything," the old woman said sadly. "The poor young man. What could have happened to him?"

"Thank you for your time, Mrs. Bruner," said Sara as she stood up to leave.

"You'll let me know if there is anything else I can do to help, won't you?"

"Yes, ma'am…we will. No, don't get up." Warrick waved a hand. "We'll see ourselves out."

She watched as they walked to the living room, packed up their kits, and went out the front door, closing it quietly behind them. For a full thirty minutes she sat looking at the door, making sure they were really gone before she stood up and made her way to the bakers rack. The shelves were fuller than before. One by one she removed the cookie jars and potted violets until nothing was left but a large philodendron. She picked it up and put it on the table and then slid the rack to the side.

* * *

><p><strong>Thanks again to those who have signed up for alerts, put the story in your favorites, and are readingreviewing. I appreciate it so much! And thanks to JacquiT and Praetor Corvinus for helping me work some things out on this chapter. And to my (former cop) brother for all of the info on guns and holsters. :-)**


	4. Chapter 4

_She watched as they walked to the living room, packed up their kits, and went out the front door, closing it quietly behind them. For a full thirty minutes she sat looking at the door, making sure they were really gone before she stood up and made her way to the bakers rack. The shelves were fuller than before. One by one she removed the cookie jars and potted violets until nothing was left but a large philodendron. She picked it up and put it on the table and then slid the rack to the side._

* * *

><p>The sudden burst of light in the previously pitch black darkness nearly blinded Nick after he pulled the light chain over his head. He quickly shut his eyes tightly and clutched at the wall for balance. It took him a minute or two before he felt steady enough to open his eyes again, and when he did he found that he still could see nothing but the stone on either side of him. Below him, the walls gave way to the rest of the root cellar, but he could not see much until he descended the stairs, and that was going to take some time. He slowly sat down and looked toward the bottom of the stairs. He noted that there was blood on the wall which caused him to look at his hands. Sure enough, there was blood there too from where he had wiped at his head and face earlier. He must have gone head first right into the wall when he fell. The pain in his arm reminded him that his probable concussion was not his only injury. Now in the light, he wanted to examine the limb to see what kind of damage it might have suffered, but he still had his jacket on. <em>Maybe it's better not to find out...sure not worth trying to take the jacket off right now.<em> So he held his arm close to his body, took a deep breath, and then began scooting down the stairs one at a time.

By the time he reached a point on the staircase where he could see throughout the room, he was winded enough again to have to rest before looking around. He lowered his head and closed his eyes, trying to catch his breath. In just a few seconds he felt himself drifting off...succumbing to the bliss of oblivion. But a sudden commotion in the room brought him full to full alert again. He jerked his head up and looked toward the source of the sound.

The light above the stairs was bright, but it couldn't quite reach all of the dark corners of the cellar. Still, it was enough so that Nick could finally make out something. When he looked toward the area where he had heard the earlier noises and now this, he saw a small, folding card table with a couple of plastic cups on it. There were no chairs, but there were several pillows stacked up near the table. And there was a blanket. Nick had to blink his eyes and lean forward as he thought it looked odd...lumpy…as though there were more pillows underneath it. And it was moving.

In spite of the dire situation, he almost smiled at the thought of the children hiding from him, practically in plain sight. But he knew they might actually be hurt under there. Or restrained. Regardless, there was one thing he knew for sure. They were scared.

"Allison? Sean?" The blanket seemed to shrink, pulling back tighter against the forms beneath. "My name is Nick. I work with the police department. I'm just...we've been trying to find you...to take you home. You don't have to be afraid." He saw some more movement under the blanket, but there was no response. "Hey...listen...I'm over here on the stairs...sitting down. I'll stay here. And you can just stay there, okay? You can just peek out and take a look and see that it's okay. I'll stay right here."

Nick stayed in place and waited. It only took a few minutes before he saw the edges of the blanket slowly come down, exposing a mop of mussed up blonde hair. Two seconds later and Sean Elliott's blue eyes were staring across the room at him. Nick smiled, although he wasn't sure how well the boy could see him in the sparse light. "Hi, Sean," he said kindly.

The little boy ducked quickly back under the safety of the blanket, and Nick could hear murmuring underneath. A moment later the blanket lowered again and this time Sean was joined by the dark hair and brown eyes of the little girl. "Hi, Allison."

The two children stared at the newcomer for several minutes before turning to each other, heads together, and quietly conferring about this sudden change in circumstances. Nick waited silently, allowing them to size him up and decide what they were going to do. Their heads turned to look at him once more and then they huddled again. This time Nick could hear the whispers.

"Ask him."

"No, you ask him."

"No...you."

The exchange amused Nick as he waited for them to come to some decision, but the next words, spoken timidly by a very wide-eyed Allison as she still clutched the blanket, broke his heart.

"Are you the bad man?"

* * *

><p>Sheriff Rory Atwater threw the copy of the Las Vegas Sun down on the table in the breakroom of the crime lab. "Somebody want to explain that to me?"<p>

The entire grave shift team along with Captain Brass sat around the table, and everyone cringed without even looking at the paper. They knew the press had been all over the story about the missing children, and now that a member of the police department had disappeared as well they were even more determined to get a good story. Sensationalism sells papers, and this situation was just begging for it.

Grissom reached out and put his fingers on the paper, sliding it toward him, and looked down at the headline blaring from the front page. "Bermuda Triangle Neighborhood Claims Another Victim," he read it out loud.

"Keep going," said Atwater, arms crossed.

The CSI supervisor pursed his lips and then continued, "In the normally pleasant Bryant Street neighborhood where two children recently vanished without a trace, the mystery deepened Tuesday as one of the investigators searching for the children went missing as well. A source close to the case reports that the police have no clues in the disappearance of one of their own, CSI Nick Stokes, who was canvassing the area along with other officers when he disappeared." He stopped and looked at the sheriff. "What do you want me to say, Rory?"

"Skip to the bottom there."

Grissom looked back down at the newspaper and scanned to the end of the story. "Understandably, frightened neighbors are asking why there hasn't been any progression in this case, and this reporter has to agree. If the police can't protect themselves, how are they going to protect the citizens of Las Vegas?"

Atwater paced back and forth as he spoke. "Now one of you explain to me how I'm supposed to keep this city feeling safe when 3 people have disappeared into thin air and you guys have nothing to go on."

"C'mon, Rory..." Brass started but was quickly stopped by the sheriff.

"Jim...save it." Atwater held up his hand. "I've got a press conference in an hour, and I want to hear _something_ from this team that I can say to keep people feeling safe and the press satisfied. They're calling it the Bermuda Triangle for Christ's sake! Grissom...give me something...anything. Tell me you found _something_ in the search today that's gonna help solve this thing."

"I wish I could," Grissom said calmly. "But all of the evidence isn't in yet."

"_What_ evidence? That's the problem here, people...no clues...no sign of anything. That's what people are afraid of." The sheriff leaned over with his palms on the table. "Somebody run it down for me. What _did_ you find today?"

The team was silent, each one looking at the other before Catherine sighed and then spoke up. "Okay, well...Gil and I went to Shelly Southern's house. She's a 'desperate housewife' without the husband. Her place is a wreck, her kids are bratty, but...we didn't find anything. We got a lot of DNA from her bed and the...furniture...around it..." She cleared her throat. "But it was all hers or unknown males...nothing matched the kids or Nick. And there were no signs that they had been in the house recently."

Sara took over next. "We didn't find anything at the old lady's house either. She said Nick came back to get his phone and then searched her attic and basement. We found the stuff downstairs...like she said he found when he looked...the fort and the toys...but there was no evidence of him or the kids down there. We checked the attic too and the rest of the house. There are a lot of places kids could hide, but...nothing."

"Steele was telling the truth." Warrick fumed as he spoke the sex offender's name out loud. "All of the samples from his house were his. Hell, we didn't even find any porn flicks or magazines...kiddie or otherwise."

"He might have cleaned house," said Brass. "He knew we'd be back."

"Maybe," Warrick agreed. "Doesn't matter...porn or no porn...there wasn't any evidence Nick had been there...or the kids." He crumpled his coffee cup and threw it hard at the corner waste basket for emphasis. "Damn it! I was _sure_ it was him!"

"It still might be. Are you guys ruling these three people out as suspects?" asked Atwater.

Brass shook his head. "We're not ruling anybody out, but...I don't know how many times we can keep going back over the same places without finding anything."

"Well we need to be doin' somethin' besides sittin' around a table yappin'!" Warrick stood up and began pacing back and forth.

"All right, look..." Brass ran a hand across his face, his fingers lingering on his tired eyes for a moment. "Besides you guys searching those three houses, we had almost the whole force out there looking, and that's on top of the searches they did for the kids."

"And don't think I'm not hearing about _that_ too," said the sheriff pointedly. "The press is already throwing questions at me about how we don't care about the kids anymore...that we're going all out looking for our guy instead of trying to find them."

"I think if we find Nick...we find the kids," offered up Catherine.

"Then let's fuckin' find him!" Warrick was still livid as he paced.

"All right, Warrick, calm down." Grissom looked up at Atwater. "Look, Rory...I don't know what else to tell you right now. We went back through all of the trash from when the kids went missing. No clues there, and this week's trash had already been picked up before we realized Nick was gone. Archie's trying to dig up some background on people in the neighborhood besides what we already know...see if anything suspicious stands out, but until then..."

"Until then what?"

"Until then...we wait."

* * *

><p>Allison Ruh's question, asked so innocently and yet fearfully, had been like a knife in Nick's heart. <em>Are you the bad man?<em> Both children still huddled together under the blanket with only their eyes visible...watching him. "No." He shook his head. "No, Allison...I'm not the...a bad man." Why had she said _the_ bad man? "I'm here to help you."

The kids looked at each other before Sean spoke up. "She said he was looking for us...that he wanted to take us away...he was mean and he would hurt us."

"Who told you that, Sean? Mrs. Bruner?"

The little boy nodded and pulled the blanket closer.

"Do you know what man she was talking about?"

The children's eyes shifted so that they were looking at each other and then went back to watching Nick. "Our daddy," Allison piped up meekly.

Nick wrinkled his brow. "But that doesn't make sense. Why...how could...?" He stopped when he realized that the children were still cowering under the blanket, clearly still not certain that he was not there to hurt them. He smiled at them. "Okay...well...no one is here right now to hurt you or take you away, and I won't let anyone do that if they try. Okay?" When they hesitantly nodded at him, he said, "You guys can come out...if you want. I'll stay over here."

The little girl started to push the blanket down off of her but was stopped by Sean. He looked warily at the man sitting on the steps. "How do we know you're really a policeman?"

"Well..." Nick looked down at himself. He hadn't worn a vest or brought a kit, and the old woman had taken his gun and radio. But his jacket bore the LVPD logo on the upper left side. "I'm not really a policeman, but I work for the police department. I'm an investigator. I help the police solve crimes."

"Like Scooby Doo?" Allison asked excitedly before Sean hushed her.

Nick laughed. "Sort of...I guess. Hey, look...it says so on my jacket here." He turned a little so that the light hit the logo. "I'd take it off and toss it to you, but...I hurt my arm when I fell, so it's kind of..."

"She pushed you."

Sean's matter-of-fact statement caught Nick off guard. "What?"

"She pushed you," the boy repeated. "Mrs. Bruner."

"Yeah...yeah, I guess she did." Nick wondered what the children had been through since their abduction and just what the old lady had told them, but he wanted to tread carefully into that territory with them. Allison seemed to be timid but also quick to want to accept him. Sean was more cautious and appeared to be taking on the role of the younger child's protector. Nick looked him in the eyes. "Sean, did Mrs. Bruner hurt you or Allison?" When the boy shook his head, he asked, "You guys are okay? Have you had stuff to eat?"

"Peanut butter sandwiches!" Allison exclaimed. "And cookies!"

The boy gave her an annoyed look before answering Nick. "Yes...she feeds us okay." Then he narrowed his eyes and asked suspiciously, "You said you were looking for us. How come you let her get you too?"

The kid was smart. Once Nick gained his trust, he thought that he might be able to get some useful information from him about what was going on, including why Ruth Bruner would tell them that their father was out to harm them when they didn't even have the same father. _Might as well tell him the truth._ "Well, she tricked me. I trusted her."

Sean nodded. "Us too."

"I'm playing hide and seek with her!" said Allison. "But...I never hid this long before. She said we have to be quiet so he won't find us."

Nick nodded. "You said she meant your dad?"

"Yeah." Now the little girl looked sad, her brief burst of enthusiasm gone. She looked at him, her lower lip sticking out in a small pout, and shook her head slightly. "But my daddy's a good daddy."

"I'm sure he is, honey." He smiled at her for reassurance. "Sean? What about you? Is your dad…." He stopped speaking suddenly as a sound from above caused him to turn his head and look up the stairs. Someone was opening the door.

* * *

><p>"He's clean, Warrick." Archie spoke over his shoulder at the tall CSI looming there.<p>

Warrick leaned over to get a closer look at the computer screen. "What? C'mon, man…there's gotta be somethin'."

"Nope." The AV tech hit punched a few keys and Clayton Steele's photo popped up on the screen along with his criminal record file. "He has the conviction for the two offenses six years ago…served his time and hasn't violated his probation since. Not even a traffic ticket."

Warrick huffed in response.

"Even if he did have something else in there…doesn't mean he had anything to do with Nick's disappearance. The guy's small time…he's a shitty asshole…but he doesn't look like the kind of guy who could take Nick on and win." When Warrick didn't answer him, he went on, "He's lived in that house for three years…never married…works construction for Harris Brothers Contracting."

"All right, all right…what else?"

"Ruth Bruner…not in the LVPD system at all. She and her husband owned an antique store…sold the business and retired. They bought their house in 1964…he passed away eight years ago…they had one daughter. Again…nothing standing out here."

"What about Shelly Southern?" Warrick sat down in the seat next to Archie.

"Now her…" He pulled up a mug shot of the divorced mother. "She's got a few misdemeanors for drunk and disorderly. Before she and her ex split up two years ago there was also a domestic assault situation…both of them were arrested for knocking each other around."

"Anything with the kids? Any abuse against them or have they been in any trouble?"

Archie shook his head. "No. Nothing like that." He sighed. "I'm expanding out now…checking out the rest of the neighborhood, but…the police report map doesn't show much in that area aside from a couple of noise complaints and a dog bite."

Warrick got up from his seat and headed for the door. "All right…give me a call if you find anything."

"You heading home?"

The CSI didn't stop to look back on his way out. "Nope. I'm goin' back out there."

* * *

><p><strong>Thanks to everyone for waiting patiently for an update. And thanks to those who have recently signed up for alerts or put the story in your favorites. Leave a little review and let me know what you think. I really appreciate it! <strong>


	5. Chapter 5

_Archie shook his head. "No. Nothing like that." He sighed. "I'm expanding out now…checking out the rest of the neighborhood, but…the police report map doesn't show much in that area aside from a couple of noise complaints and a dog bite."_

_Warrick got up from his seat and headed for the door. "All right…give me a call if you find anything."_

"_You heading home?"_

_The CSI didn't stop to look back on his way out. "Nope. I'm goin' back out there."_

* * *

><p>Ruth Bruner had waited a full thirty minutes after the CSIs had searched her home before getting up to go into the root cellar. She still considered herself spry for her age, but she wouldn't be able to move everything back into place should they decide to come back suddenly. Once she was satisfied that they were really gone, she carefully moved everything off of the bakers rack and then slid it to the side. As she put her hands on the door to open it, she leaned in with her ear, trying to hear if there were any sounds or disturbances down there. All was quiet. She had told the investigators the truth, however,...her hearing wasn't very good anymore. But her sight was still sharp. And in the tiny crevasse where the door met the wall she could see that the cellar light was on.<p>

The old woman backed quietly away from the door. She didn't want to waste time putting everything back, so she moved quickly out of the kitchen and up the stairs to her bedroom. The CSIs had come in here as well...even moved the braided rug aside. But they hadn't seen the crack between the floorboards that was slightly larger than the other ones. She pried up the board and retrieved Nick's gun and belt from the hiding space.

When she had taken the gun in the first place she had tried her best to remove it from the holster but was unsuccessful. Now she tried again with more urgency than before. It would be a losing battle to face him without it. Holding it as far away from her as she could, she pushed and pulled and twisted the weapon, ever fearful of it going off accidentally as she tried to retrieve it. She anxiously wondered what was going on down in the cellar and fretted about coming up with an alternate plan, when suddenly the holster gave way, releasing the gun into her shaky hands.

Nick had just been beginning to get into a conversation with the children, trying to gain their trust and see if he could figure out what was going on, when he heard the door above him opening. He stopped in the middle of his sentence and turned his head to look up the stairs, but not before he noticed the children hunkering down under the blanket again.

The door squeaked softly as it slowly opened just a crack. Then a little wider. The light that came in from the kitchen made a streak that reached down the dark top of the stairs and then merged with the cellar light from overhead. A single eye appeared at the door crack.

Ruth stifled a gasp as she saw Nick sitting on the stairs looking up at her. She had suspected as much…that he was awake and had found the children…but confronted with it she felt her heart start beating faster. She swallowed hard and summoned up her courage. "Nick..." she spoke softly through the crack. "That's your name...isn't it? I think that's what they called you. Could you...would you please...move? Out of the way...so I can come down there?"

Nick couldn't believe his ears. Was she really politely...almost fearfully...asking him to move out of her way when earlier she had shoved him face first down the stairs? But actually, she had caught him off guard from behind. If he wasn't injured, she would have good reason to fear him, but was she aware of how hurt he was? "Mrs. Bruner?" He tried his best to put some authority in his voice, even though he knew he was at a definite disadvantage here. "I'm not sure what's going on...but we need to get these kids out of here and back to their homes."

"You have to move so I can come down and check on the children, Nick."

"No, _you_ have to help me get them back to their parents," Nick insisted.

"Go over where they are..please…" She sounded more desperate now and opened the door a little wider, revealing the gun in her hand. "I don't want to frighten them," she whispered.

The confusion about why she kept the children locked in a cellar but didn't want to "frighten them" was trumped by the fact that she now held a gun on him. So Nick nodded. "Okay…okay…I'll go over there. But…I'm not moving very well. I got hurt when you…when I fell earlier." He looked over at Allison and Sean who were still watching him from beneath the blanket. "Hey, kids…I'm gonna come over there now…okay?" They both nodded, eyes wide, and so he took a deep breath and used his good arm for support as he stood up on the stairs. Once upright, he paused a moment to steady himself, and then slowly navigated the few bottom steps below him. When he reached the cellar floor, he put his right hand against the wall and leaned against it and looked back up the stairs.

Ruth opened the door wider and stepped onto the first cellar step, then closed the door behind her. She came down two more steps before stopping, still hidden from the children's view, and held the gun out, aiming it down at Nick. "Go on…please." She then slipped her hand and the gun into the front pocket of the striped garden smock she wore.

Nick looked across the room to the corner where the children were. He focused on the card table and headed carefully for it, just concentrating on the goal of getting there without falling. His head spun and the nausea he had felt earlier came back with a vengeance, protesting his sudden increase in activity, but he made it safely. He put his right hand on the table, closing his eyes briefly and trying to catch his breath. When he had recovered a bit, he opened his eyes and looked around the area. The table wasn't steady enough for him to really lean on, and there were no chairs. The stacked pillows looked tempting, but Nick did not want to put himself at any more of a disadvantage than he already was. Better to remain upright if he could. He looked down at the kids who were now looking up at him. He smiled and whispered, "It's gonna be okay," before turning and looking back toward the stairs.

Once she was sure that Nick had really moved to the corner, Ruth came down the stairs. She reached the bottom and faced the trio across the room. She smiled warmly at the children and said, "It's okay, dears…he won't hurt you." She looked at Nick then and their eyes locked as she took her hand out of her pocket but then placed it over the outside of it, feeling the outline of the gun beneath the fabric. "Please sit down, Nick."

He was both disheartened and relieved at the same time. She was smart…covering all her bases. She wanted him on the floor to limit his ability to overtake her, and that wasn't a good position for him to be in. But he knew he didn't have the strength to stand up much longer, whether she knew it or not, and to sit against the pillows right now sounded like a very good option to him. So he carefully maneuvered a few of them so that he could sink down onto one and lean back on a few of the others. Once he was settled he picked up one pillow and placed it on his lap so that it supported his broken arm. He looked to his left and saw the kids just inches from him, Sean still looking uncertain about this whole turn of events, but Allison beaming. She made a small, almost imperceptible but definite shift toward Nick and then looked at Ruth.

"Is it almost time for cookies?" she asked the old woman.

"Yes, dear," Ruth answered kindly. "We'll have our cookies and milk soon." She looked at Nick and added, "Maybe upstairs this time."

"Cool!" the little girl exclaimed. She leaned a little closer to Nick, brushing against his shoulder, and whispered, "She makes the _best_ cookies!"

He looked down at her and smiled. "I'll bet she does." He looked at Ruth. "Mrs. Bruner…don't you think it's time for everyone to go home?"

"No…no…" She shook her head and sat down on the steps. "It's not safe."

"But I don't think…maybe you're…confused?"

Ruth sat up straighter, an indignant look on her face. "I'm getting a little tired of people thinking I'm just a foolish, senile old woman who doesn't know how to take care of children."

"I didn't mean…"

"_I_…" She leaned forward. "…know how to take care of children. _I_ raised a good daughter. _I_ know what I'm doing."

"Okay." Nick cleared his throat. "Then…what are you doing? Maybe I can help."

Ruth sat back and laughed. "Oh, I don't think so, dear, but thank you. You seem like a nice young man, but…you weren't brought up like I was." She shook her head. "Times change…people change. _Parents_ change." She nodded, confident and satisfied with her insight.

"But I think...these kids have good parents. Don't they?"

Her face clouded over. "You see?" she said sternly. "This is why I have to take care of them. The police...they don't do anything about it. Until it's too late."

"About what?" asked Nick. "I can do something. If you know something...if these kids are in danger...I can help. But not down here...not like this."

The old woman smiled sweetly now. "No...no, dear, you can't help. I'm sure you mean well, but back in my day...well, we were raised not to argue with our elders."

"I'm not arguing with you, I just..."

"We respected our parents," she interrupted him, "but they respected us as well. My father, God rest his soul, never laid a hand on me or my mother. Of course, Las Vegas was different in those days too. Tsk...so much crime today."

"Mrs. Bruner..."

She continued speaking as though she hadn't heard him, her eyes wandering to an empty corner of the room. "My father loved me. He took care of us...spent time with me and my mother..._quality_ time. We had the loveliest picnics at Lorenzi Park...he would set up the croquet set and we'd play for hours while my mother watched. Such a lovely time."

Nick wondered if she even realized where she was right now. She seemed to have drifted away. He wasn't sure if bringing her back to the present would be a good thing or not, so he just agreed with her. "It sounds nice."

"He bought me dolls," she said without looking at him. "The most beautiful china dolls. I passed them on to my daughter, and one day her daughter will love them as much as I did. Every Christmas I got a new one, and we would have tea parties for them in the spring in the backyard. Mother would wear her finest dresses to those parties, and Papa..." She laughed. "Even Papa joined us for cake."

Nick felt a tug on his jacket. He looked down to find Allison looking up at him. "Can we have cake?" she whispered.

"Sure we can, honey," he whispered back. "But later, okay?"

"Okay." She snuggled up against him and looked at Ruth again, waiting to hear more of her stories.

The old woman still seemed lost in her memories. "We had the nicest backyard to play in. Houses don't have backyards like that anymore."

As she continued to talk about her childhood home, Nick realized that the last few times he had interrupted her she had ignored him...or simply didn't realize there was anyone else in the room with her. Either way, with her attention diverted and with her being lost in another world, he thought he might...just might...be able to make his way over to her without her noticing. "Mrs. Bruner?" She never stopped talking...never looked his way.

Nick looked at the children and made a soft "Shhh" sound as he moved the pillow off of his lap and steadied his hurt arm against his body. With the help of his good arm, he got to his knees and decided to try to make his way over to the woman that way instead of standing up. He had made it just a few feet before he stopped in his tracks.

"Please don't." She turned and looked at him, placing her hand on her lap and covering the pocket that held the gun. Her eyes held his for a moment before he backed up and took his place next to Allison again. "Yes...even in this neighborhood yards like that are scarce. I wish you children could have..." She shook her head. "Never mind. It's different now. No respect...fathers today have got no respect."

"Mrs. Bruner, how long are you going to keep them...us...down here?" asked Nick. "I don't understand what..."

"That's none of your concern," she answered as she stood up. "Well! I guess I'll go upstairs and start getting things ready." She leaned over, hands on her knees, and turned her attention to the children. "I'll be back soon to get you, and we'll go somewhere safe, okay? Somewhere where he can't hurt you." The old woman started up the stairs.

"You _know_ I'm not going to hurt them!" Nick called after her, afraid that her words would frighten the kids.

She stopped climbing the stairs and leaned over so that she could see across the room. "Not _you_, dear. Their father."

* * *

><p>Warrick pulled his car up to the curb in front of the 700 block of Bryant Street. He turned off the engine and looked out the window. Two, then three, fat raindrops hit the glass and were quickly joined by dozens more. He looked up at the sky which had already been overcast but was getting even darker with the coming nightfall.<p>

_"Hope it doesn't rain."_

Nick had uttered those words two days ago when they had arrived at the scene, and now they echoed in Warrick's head. He got out of the car and leaned against it, hands in his jacket pockets, and felt a shudder go through him, partly from the cold...mostly from Nick's words. _Nick, man...where are you?_ His eyes scanned the houses in front of him.

Warm light shone from the windows at the front of Clayton Steele's home. The house looked so cozy in the early fall evening that Warrick could almost imagine the smell of a warm supper cooking in the oven and a fire in the fireplace. A perfect setting, straight out of a painting or a movie...the kind of peaceful night at home that most people dream of but rarely experience. But Warrick knew better. What lurked behind that door was anything but perfect, and as if to confirm it the curtains in the left window suddenly drew shut, then the right, keeping in the light and whatever else might be in there.

He looked at Ruth Bruner's house next door, the one that _should_look like a perfect scene out of a painting or movie, but the windows were dark save for a single glow coming from a small window near the back of the house. The kitchen? He couldn't be sure, but that's what it looked like. He wondered if the old woman had gone out for the night, but thought it more likely that she had fallen asleep before it got dark enough to have the lights on.

The next house, Shelly Southern's, was alive with activity. From the outside it appeared that every light in the house was on, and even on the street Warrick could hear the yelling from inside. From what he heard, he could ascertain that dinner was getting cold, the laundry hadn't been folded, and the kids' rooms were a mess. It sounded like her son, Scotty, was giving as good as he got though, shouting back at his mother that the mess in the living room was hers and that dinner probably wasn't worth eating.

Warrick shook his head and looked up the street toward Allison's house and Sean's across from it. Both homes had multiple cars in front of them, signs of support from other family members and friends who had vowed to help see the families through this. During the initial investigation when the children first went missing, both houses as well as the families and friends had been checked out thoroughly. Still...Warrick wondered if it was possible that someone close to them had been responsible. He stood up off of the car and walked up the sidewalk in that direction.

He really didn't know what he was looking for. Nothing. Anything. A feeling? He stood in between the two houses and looked from one to the other. The search dogs had been out here several times canvassing the entire neighborhood and yet the continued to find Nick's scent only at the places he was known to have been...the homes of the three people they had questioned. With the trail growing cold, Warrick was starting to entertain the thought that maybe Nick _had_ been taken from the area after all as Catherine had suggested in their first meeting with the sheriff. His eyes scanned the ground, the sidewalk, the curb, and the gutter as he walked back to his car which was parked in the same spot where he had left Nick that day.

_"Yeah,,,yeah...I'll catch a ride with Brass."_

_Damn it._ Why hadn't he just made Nick come with him to the other crime scene? It was still before shift. There wasn't any reason why he had to go back to the lab right then. And looking for body parts at the landfill? Warrick could have used help with that. But..._shit_...there were so many cops around and Brass was right up the street...it should have been safe. It wasn't like...the last time. _No._ He shook his head. It wasn't the same thing. But it had been three years since he'd left Holly Gribbs alone on a scene. Three years since her murder. And still he knew..._they're all thinkin' it. It's my fault. _A flash of lightning caused him to look skyward and the rain began falling more heavily. He pulled his jacket tighter against him and got into the car.

* * *

><p>"Warrick! Where the hell have you been?"<p>

He slammed the door to his locker and looked at Catherine who had just burst into the room. "Around. Why?"

"Next time take your phone." She tossed it to him and he caught it with ease. "We've been trying to reach you for a couple of hours."

"Sorry. Actually…" He sighed. "I went back out to the scene…to see if…ah hell…I didn't find anything."

"_We_ did." Catherine gave him a big grin.

His eyes opened wide. "What? What'd you find?"

"C'mon." She gestured for him to follow her and explained as they walked through the lab. "Waste Management finally got us the trash bags that were picked up around Bryant the morning of Nick's disappearance. We got two blocks' worth in all directions."

"Cath, are you crazy? You know how long it's gonna take to go through all that?"

"Yeah…well, we'll have some uniforms and cadets help with that just in case, but we managed to narrow down the block we wanted and pulled out the bags from our three houses." She took a left by Grissom's office and headed down the hallway with Warrick close behind.

"And?"

She stopped outside the print lab and looked up at him. "We found Nick's phone and radio…well…pieces of them."

"What?"

"They were inside of a couple of plastic bags…smashed up…the batteries taken out…the bags tied off."

Warrick's face hardened and his eyes narrowed. "Whose trash?"

Catherine sighed. "Clayton Steele's."

"I _knew_ it! Cath…I swear to God…I'm gonna take that guy, and…"

Before he could finish his threat, he was interrupted by Mandy's voice calling for them. He and Catherine entered the lab and waited to hear the results of her search.

"Okay," the brunette lab tech began, "I don't know if you're gonna like this or not."

"Shit. If you're not gonna tell me you got Steele's prints off of there, then I don't want to hear it," said Warrick.

"Then…you might want to step out of the room."

"You gotta be fuckin' kidding me!" Warrick exclaimed.

"Warrick…take it easy," Catherine tried to calm him down. "What _did_ you find then, Mandy?"

"Well, I've got Nick's prints all over the pieces. And no unknowns, but a lot of partials and smudges that could be Nick's or someone else."

"Like Steele," said Warrick.

"Maybe…who knows?" Mandy continued. "But I did ID one more clear print."

Warrick and Catherine looked at each other before Catherine asked, "Whose is it?"

"It came back to Ruth Bruner."

* * *

><p><strong>Well, I updated faster this time! :-) Thanks to <strong>Praetor Corvinus for the support and the proofreading! <strong>I hope you all enjoy this chapter. Please leave a review and let me know what you think! I'll try to keep updating frequently, but if I fall behind don't worry...the story will definitely be updated and completed. Thank again for reading! I appreciate it!**


	6. Chapter 6

**A quicker, but shorter, update. I hope you enjoy it!**

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><p>"<em>Maybe…who knows?" Mandy continued. "But I did ID one more clear print."<em>

_Warrick and Catherine looked at each other before Catherine asked, "Whose is it?"_

"_It came back to Ruth Bruner."_

* * *

><p>"What the hell?" Warrick took the report from Mandy and looked it over. "How can that be? Why is she even in the system?"<p>

Mandy went back to the computer and pulled up the file. A photo of a much younger Ruth Bruner appeared on the screen. "Looks like...yeah, work card. She worked part-time in the kitchen at the Horseshoe downtown in the early 70's."

"Huh. Antique store must not have been doing too good," said Warrick as he leaned over and studied the photo.

"What do you think?" asked Catherine. "You said Nick left his phone behind at her house."

Warrick stood up straight and looked at her. "I think Steele must have worn gloves or somethin', 'cause he didn't wipe it clean, that's for sure."

"So you think Mrs. Bruner handled the phone before Nick came back to get it?

"She must have," answered Warrick. "Except..."

"Except what?"

"Except she told us she hadn't noticed that he left it there," he finished.

"Hey...guys?" Mandy interrupted them. "Even if she did touch it before Nick came to get it...the print I lifted came from the _inside_ of the broken piece."

"What?" Warrick exclaimed incredulously.

"Yeah...clear as anything...on the inside...which means..."

"She handled the broken pieces," said Catherine. "So either she's the one who smashed the phone and radio…or she…what? Found the pieces somewhere and picked them up?"

"And then what?" asked Warrick. "She put them all together in a plastic bag...in _two_ bags...and stuffed them into Steele's trash can and didn't bother to tell us that when we were questioning her?"

"You tell me, Warrick. I never met her. You've talked to her twice. Would she forget something like this? Did she get confused?"

"Not _that_ confused," he answered as he stormed out the door.

* * *

><p>Ruth Bruner had gone slowly and carefully back up the stairs after her talk with Nick and the kids. They heard the click of the door closing as she left the cellar, and Allison looked up at Nick and asked, "Are we going somewhere?"<p>

He was still a bit confused by the conversation...if you could call it that...with the old woman, but he told the little girl, "I don't know, honey...maybe. You'll be fine though...she won't hurt you."

She reached her arm up and pointed at his head. "You got hurt."

"Yeah...yeah, I did...a little." He smiled and wiped at his face, getting off a little more of the blood that was drying there. "But I'm okay."

Sean, who throughout Ruth's visit had been silent, spoke up quietly. "Where is she taking us?"

"I don't know, buddy. But don't worry...everything will be okay," Nick answered.

"Are you going with us?" Allison asked, leaning against him and looking up with wide eyes.

"I don't know...probably not."

Her mouth turned down. "But I want you to," she whined.

Before Nick could say anything, Sean burst out, "He can't come, dork! Stop being such a baby."

"I'm _not_ a baby!"

"You are too!"

"Hey...hey, guys...hang on," Nick quieted them. He scooted out away from the pillows so that he could turn and face them both as he spoke. "Everything's going to be okay. I know it's scary, but let's be nice to each other and work together and before you know it you'll be home again. Okay?"

Sean scowled in Allison's direction but then looked at Nick and said, "Okay."

Allison's lower lip was trembling and her dark eyes were full of tears, but she agreed as well and then softly asked Nick, "Are you scared too?"

"Sure I am," he answered. "Grownups can get scared too."

The little girl slipped out from under the blanket and crawled over next to Nick on his right side where she wouldn't hurt his injured arm and leaned against him. "It will be okay."

Nick smiled and put his arm around her. "I know, honey. Thanks."

"I wish I had my tiger," she said sadly.

"What?"

Sean piped up, "Her stupid stuffed tiger...Mac. She keeps whining about it."

"His name is MAX!" she shouted at him.

"Hey...I thought we were going to be nice to each other," said Nick.

"Sorry," Sean mumbled.

"I'm sorry." Allison looked like she was about to cry.

"It's okay. Hey…you know what though?" Nick leaned over and whispered to her. "Max is okay."

"He is?" She brightened up.

"Sure! He was on the sidewalk where you left him, but the police have him now. He's safe…waiting for you to come home with him."

"I wish he was here." She snuggled closer under Nick's arm.

"You'll see him soon."

She shook her head. "If he was here, I would give him to you."

Surprised, Nick looked down at her. "But why? He's yours, honey."

"So you won't be alone...when she takes us away."

* * *

><p>It was all Catherine could do to keep Warrick from storming out of the building without her. But she managed to catch up to him and joined him in his SUV while she got Brass on the phone. Once she filled the captain in on their findings, he said he would meet them at Ruth Bruner's home but cautioned her to wait for him and the other officers before approaching the house. She agreed, but inside she hoped she would be able to keep Warrick from going in without them. She looked over at him as he drove. His jaw was set and his eyes were narrowed, focused on the road ahead.<p>

"Warrick? What are you thinking?"

He shook his head slowly but did not look at her. "I don't know, Cath. I was in that house. _Twice_. I don't see any way that old woman could get the drop on Nick. Even if she did…what's her motive? Why would she take those kids?"

"I haven't met her. Did she seem…was she delusional at all?"

"Nah…she seemed tired…a little confused some of the time, but she made sense." He took a corner a little too fast, causing Catherine to grab for the dashboard. "Sorry," he mumbled.

"What about duress?" she asked. "Maybe someone else is behind this and they're making her cooperate. There could have been someone else in the house…holding the kids…making sure she said the right things."

"We searched the house, Catherine…Sara and I…the attic…the basement…everywhere." Then a thought occurred to him. "Jesus…" he uttered.

"What?"

"Cath…if he's there…if I missed him…"

"Don't," she cautioned.

"But what if he was there the whole time? Or…what if…?" Darker thoughts crossed his mind and he brought a fist down hard onto the steering wheel. "Damn it!"

"Warrick…" Catherine put a hand on his arm.

"She dumped the phone and radio, Cath. She must have. She's hiding something…something bad. What if something happened and she didn't even mean for it to? It might have been an accident…with the kids. Then maybe Nick…" He shook his head. "Shit."

"Stop it." She squeezed his arm for emphasis. "Let's just see how this plays out before you start blaming yourself or anyone else for this mess."

"Yeah, yeah," he muttered as he gunned it to make a yellow light.

Catherine knew he wasn't convinced. At this point nothing short of finding Nick and the children was going to make any difference in how he was feeling. She sighed and turned to look out the rain streaked window, her breath leaving a small patch of fog on the cold pane.

* * *

><p>Allison's offer of her beloved stuffed tiger had choked Nick up. The little girl was being held in a dark cellar away from her home and family, but all she was worried about was him being alone. Speechless, he responded by giving her a hug with his good arm, and after a few minutes of silence he addressed Sean. "So...it looks like Mrs. Bruner might be taking you guys somewhere soon. Do you have any idea where? Or why?"<p>

The little boy shook his head. "She just keeps saying he'll hurt us and she has to keep us safe."

"And you don't know who she's talking about?"

"No. She said our dad, but we don't have the same dad. And my dad's not mean to me. She's crazy or something."

"I want to go home," Allison whined softly, settling herself deeper under Nick's arm and hiding her face. It was clear that the talk of leaving with the old woman was making her increasingly more frightened.

"Hey, guys...listen. Mrs. Bruner's always been nice to you. Right?" They nodded in agreement. "Even while you've been down here, right?" Again they nodded. "You're going to be fine. She probably just wants to get you out of here so you can be outdoors or do something fun, you know?"

"Really?" Allison asked.

"Sure, you'll be fine. Don't be worried," he answered, glancing at Sean who clearly was not convinced but stayed silent. "And when I get out of here, I'm going to come find you, okay?"

The little girl looked up at him. "You will?"

Nick nodded. "I will."

She looked hopeful, a bit less sad, and asked, "Will you find us soon? Promise?"

"I promise. I'll find you soon and take you home."

"Good!" She jumped to her feet and pointed at him, giggling. "I like you, Nick!"

"Oh, brother," Sean sighed, rolling his eyes.

Nick just smiled at both of them. "I like you too. Just remember what I said, okay? You'll be..." He stopped suddenly as the sound of the door opening reached them, and they all three turned to look toward the staircase. He leaned over and whispered hurriedly to them, "Just be nice to her...do what she says...everything will be okay."

"Nick?" They heard the old woman call out from the top of the stairs. He didn't answer. "Nick...would you please...I don't think I can make it down these stairs again and back up. Would you please send the children up?"

"Mrs. Bruner," he called back, "do you really have to leave? Why don't we all just stay here?"

"Please don't argue with me. What did I tell you about that?" Again he did not respond. "Please...don't make me come down there. I still have...your things."

Nick knew what she meant by that. She had his gun, and she didn't want to have to use it to get what she wanted. He gave a heavy sigh, resigning himself to the way this was going to turn out. The children looked at him expectantly. He forced a smile. "Okay...go on now."

Sean crawled out from under the blanket to join Allison who was still standing near where Nick sat. He looked hesitantly toward the stairs and then back at Nick.

"Go on. It's okay. You two stick together, okay? Watch out for each other."

Sean nodded and reached out to take Allison's hand. Then he led her toward the stairs, but not before she took one last look back at Nick. "Bye," she said softly and then followed the boy.

Nick watched as they went up the stairs and disappeared. He heard some muffled words from above...the old woman talking to them...and then heard a couple of steps come back down the stairs. A moment later, the cellar was thrust into darkness. He heard two steps go back up, and then he heard the door close.

* * *

><p><strong>Thanks again so much for reading and especially to those who take a minute to review! I really appreciate hearing your thoughts. Things are starting to move along, so hopefully I'll have another update soon. Thanks to NickyFan and Praetor Corvinus for talking me through this one! You guys are awesome! :-)<strong>


	7. Chapter 7

**Finally! A new chapter. I'm really, really sorry it took so long. It's been a hell of a month. Besides the normal chaos of the holidays, my dad hadn't been well and then passed away two weeks ago. Getting back into the story and the writing has been a good diversion and escape for me tho. I'm still going to be very busy settling his affairs, but I promise to keep writing and get chapters up in a more timely manner now. I hope you'll stay with me. **

* * *

><p><em>Nick watched as they went up the stairs and disappeared. He heard some muffled words from above...the old woman talking to the children...and then heard a couple of steps come back down the stairs. A moment later, the cellar was thrust into darkness. He heard two steps go back up, and then he heard the door close.<br>_

To be honest, Nick didn't mind sitting quietly in the dark for now. He reached out and blindly felt around until his hand found one of the pillows, and he pulled it back over to him. He was tempted…oh, so tempted…to just leave it on the floor and lay down. He was tired, he was thirsty, and his head hurt. And now, without the distractions of the children and the old woman, he felt the pain in his arm making itself known again with a vengeance. But instead of lying down, he placed the pillow behind his back and leaned against the wall, closing his eyes to think.

It felt good to just rest...to not think about anything before he had to figure out what to do. With his eyes closed in the darkness, his other senses were stronger and he could hear movement and voices in the kitchen above him. He could not make out what was being said, but the tone of the woman and the children told him that things were okay. She didn't sound angry or threatening, and the kids didn't sound frightened. He wondered how long it would be before she left with them. He knew she was worried that someone would come looking for him again...someone would track him down and be back asking questions. She wanted to be long gone before that happened. But why? _What is she so afraid of?_

He went over everything in his head that he had heard her say, both before and after he had discovered the children, trying to figure out if there were any clues...any hints as to what was going on. Were the kids really in some sort of danger? Or was she delusional? Was she suffering from some sort of dementia? It was hard to tell. She made sense some of the time and she did seem very certain that what she was doing was necessary to keep the kids safe. But although Nick had not met their parents, he couldn't recall any information from Brass indicating that there might be any trouble in their homes or with their families. He let out a sigh, relishing in just another minute of rest before he sat up straight and opened his eyes. It was time to get to work.

The cellar was as dark with his eyes open as it was with his eyes shut. He sat for a moment, staring into the blackness, hoping that his eyes would adjust to it some. But without any light from another source, his vision did not improve. It had been quiet upstairs for quite some time, and Nick was relatively sure that the old woman and the children had left. But still he erred on the side of caution, trying his best to make no noise as he got up slowly and began making his way in the direction of the stairs.

He felt slightly steadier on his feet now than he had earlier, and he attributed it to having had a bit of time to sit awhile with the children as well as after they had left. Being more familiar with his surroundings now helped too. He had a pretty good idea of how far away he was from the stairs, and he kept his good arm out in front of him as he made his way step by step through the darkness. It seemed to take longer than he thought it would, but finally his hand found purchase on the wall surrounding the stairs, and he felt below it until he found the steps.

He squinted his eyes and looked up where the door should be. A barely perceptible thin line of light ran from top to bottom on the left side. It was not bright enough to be an actual light shining in from the kitchen, but it was lighter than the absolute darkness of the cellar. He was going to need to use it as a guide when he tried to get the door open. But that meant leaving the light off down where he was. He realized that might not be a bad thing considering he wasn't absolutely sure that the old woman had left. No need to let the light give her any advance warning of what he was doing. _What the hell _am_ I doing? _He had no idea what awaited him at the top of the stairs...on the other side of that door. But he knew that he couldn't just sit down there and do nothing.

* * *

><p>"Where the hell is everyone?" Warrick asked irritably as he squirmed in the seat of his car, twisting left and right to look all around outside.<p>

"Relax, Warrick," Catherine tried to reassure him. "We got on the road first, and you drove like a bat out of hell. They'll be here soon." She sat back against her seat and looked out the window. They had just pulled up in front of Ruth Bruner's house. The car had barely stopped moving before Warrick was complaining, itching to get out and go up to the house.

"Well how long are we gonna wait?"

"As long as it takes," she answered. "They'll be here any minute." She looked at the house which appeared dark in the rainy night. "Doesn't look like anyone's there."

"She's probably sleepin'. We're gonna have to wake her up anyway before we can question her. Wouldn't hurt to go ahead and start knockin'." Warrick's fingers tapped impatiently on the steering wheel and he checked his rearview mirror again.

"Yes, it _would_ hurt, Warrick. Listen...we want to do this right. We don't have much evidence pointing to her right now. The last thing we need is to bust in there and end up having anything else we find thrown out because we didn't follow procedure."

"Yeah, yeah." He dismissed her as he continued to look around, then suddenly exclaimed, "Sweet! There they are!" He opened the door and jumped out before he had even finished his sentence.

Catherine turned to look behind their car and saw Warrick heading toward Brass' car which was just pulling up to the curb followed by a marked LVPD cruiser. Two uniformed officers got out and walked to Brass' car, waiting for the captain's instructions. Catherine stepped out of the car and went to join them.

"Hey," Brass greeted the CSIs as he got out of his car. "Okay, here's what we're gonna do. I've got a second search warrant that gets us back in there. But I'm gonna knock and see if she'll come to the door...explain what's going on and take it from there. We'll see what she has to say, and I'll get her down to PD for questioning if I have to."

"Jim..." Warrick started to interrupt.

"Hang on...you two are gonna get to search the place, and this time..." He held up the warrant. "This one covers everything, even if you have to tear the place down. I'm hoping it doesn't come to anything like that, but these guys are gonna back us up if we need them." He nodded toward the officers.

"Let's go then," Warrick said determinedly as he turned away from the group and started up the walk to the dark house.

* * *

><p>Nick sat on the cellar step that was just two down from the door, and tried to concentrate on his breathing. He had tried his best not to make too much noise as he had climbed the stairs, moving slowly and cautiously in the dark and keeping his goal in sight...the thin line of faint light that marked the edge of the door. God…he would give anything right now to just sleep. He looked toward the door. Now the light from the crack was more visible…still not bright, but it was obvious to him that there must be a small light on somewhere in the kitchen. He leaned closer to the door, turning his ear toward it, and listened. Silence. He had lost all sense of time since being down in the cellar and had no idea if it was day or night. It was possible that if it was night that maybe Ruth and the children had gone to bed…waiting until morning to leave. But he doubted it. She had seemed desperate to get them out of there. She wouldn't have waited. The silence meant that they were gone. <em>Might as well go for it then.<em>

He took a deep breath, ignoring the nausea that was starting to creep in along with the ache in his head. He reached out and placed his fingers against the crack in the door, then ran them up and down it lightly, feeling for a place to grasp. There was none, but he knew that the door opened outward so he tentatively leaned against it with his right shoulder and gave a small push. The door did not move, so he steadied himself and pushed harder, taking care to maintain his balance. He was feeling woozier than before now that he was at the top of the stairs, and the last thing he wanted was to take another fall. The door shifted just a little, letting in more of the dim light as it moved tightly against the kitchen floor. He pushed again, and the resistance from the floor gave way allowing the door to move more freely, but it soon stopped again.

Nick leaned against the door and sighed deeply as he briefly closed his eyes. _Jesus, what now?_ And then he remembered. The bakers rack. She had it up against the door to conceal it. He had been able to move it easily though, and now it was not budging. She must have loaded it with more items after she had him down in the cellar. _C'mon, please...gimme a break._ He pushed again against the door and felt more movement but more resistance. Frustrated, he threw his shoulder against the door as hard as he dared given his precarious position at the top of the stairs. The impact sent a jolt through his body, jarring his injured arm and earning a curse from the CSI. Even more desperate now, he hit the door with his body again and heard glass breaking as something was displaced from the shelf on the other side. Oblivious to the pain it caused, he shoved against the door again and then again even harder. "Move, you motherfucker! _Move_!" He heard another item crash to the floor and finally, after gathering his strength and putting it behind one last shove, the door gave way and moved freely and fast into the bakers rack.

The force of Nick's last ditch effort succeeded in propelling the door open but also took him with it as he lost his balance when the door gave way. The door hit the rack hard and the force, along with the weight of his body as it flew forward, was enough to take it down along with the items that had been stacked on it. Nick landed face down on the rack among the pottery, plants, and other objects now broken and scattered on the floor. He'd been so worried about trying not to fall backward that he hadn't considered falling forward, and there was no chance to try to break the fall. Dazed, he lay motionless.

* * *

><p>"Ruth Bruner? Las Vegas Police!" Brass knocked on the door as he shouted. When there was no response, he looked at the others and shrugged, then knocked again.<p>

"Come on, man...what are we waiting for? We got a warrant," said Warrick.

"Hold up," the captain answered as he raised his hand to knock again. But before his knuckles could hit the door he stopped, hand in midair, as a loud crashing sound came from within the house. He glanced at the two CSIs who were looking as shocked as he felt and then drew his weapon as did Catherine and Warrick.

The CSIs backed up and let the two uniformed officers, guns in hand, approach the door. One of them nodded at the other before bracing himself and throwing his shoulder against the door. The old, wooden frame splintered as the door flew open revealing the dark living room. The officers pulled out their flashlights and quickly made their way through the room, checking all around as they went. Brass followed them in, shouting out again, "Las Vegas Police!" as they moved into the kitchen which was dimly lit by the light over the stove.

Warrick and Catherine kept a short distance behind the others as they too entered the home, carefully creeping along as their eyes darted around as well, looking for the source of the sound that had sent them all bursting into the house. Nothing looked out of place in the front room, but a sudden commotion from the kitchen caused them to run toward it, not even stopping to think. They heard Brass yelling something at the officers, the sound of running, and the captain's voice calling Nick's name.

Of all the things they were prepared to see as they ran into the kitchen, the sight in front of them was not one of them. Brass' flashlight was dancing across the floor as he scrambled to get over a pile of debris. The light caught a broken flower pot surrounded by dirt and a ceramic cat that was missing its ears, and then it briefly illuminated the still figure of their missing colleague, face down among the mess. There were other flashlights flickering from down in the cellar as the uniformed officers searched it. "Clear!" they heard one of them shout from below.

Warrick and Catherine stood stunned until the captain's voice startled them back to attention. "Somebody get the lights!" Warrick was still focusing on Nick, edging cautiously toward where Brass was starting to kneel down, so Catherine quickly made her way to the wall near the living room and fumbled around until her hand found the light switch. She flipped it on and ran back over to the men. The officers were just coming back up from the cellar.

"Nothing down there, sir," one of them reported to the captain.

"All right...all right..." Brass pointed toward the pantry. "Check in there and the basement, then hit the upstairs." He turned his attention back to the CSIs, noting that Warrick was already tending to Nick, so he pulled out his radio and called for backup and EMTs.

Warrick had made his way to Nick and took care not to disturb any of the debris around him as he leaned over him. "Nick...man..." He looked up at Brass and Catherine briefly, still surprise at what they had found, and then reached out to touch Nick's shoulder. "Nick?"

Nick had barely had time to think after finally breaking through the door and landing on the floor. All he knew was that he was out of the cellar and was exhausted and hurting. He hadn't had time to wonder if the old woman and children were still around. All was quiet, but just for a moment. In the next instant he had heard banging and then a crash. The sounds of people running and yelling reached him, but his head was still in a fog and he couldn't understand what they were saying or what was happening. So he lay still, resigned to whatever fate was about to throw at him next.

His eyes were closed, but amidst the commotion around him he could tell when the lights were put on. He closed his eyes tighter, trying to keep out the intrusion that was making his head hurt even more. But things were moving around him and someone was touching him and…he heard his name. It was Warrick. _Jesus_. It was Warrick. He tried to answer…to turn his head to look…but he just didn't have the strength. He felt a hand on his shoulder and another on his back, feeling…then moving him. He let out a moan as his body was turned over.

"Careful," Catherine cautioned Warrick as he moved their friend. When Nick was face up she reached out and placed her hand against his face, rubbing her thumb gently across his cheek. His eyes opened in response, and she smiled with relief. "Hey, Nicky."

He blinked his eyes, trying to focus them. After being in the dark cellar for so long, the bright light of the kitchen was much too intense for him and he brought his good up arm and draped it across his face.

"Nick, man…you okay?" Warrick looked the man over trying to see if he was injured. There was a nasty looking abrasion with a large bruise around it on his forehead. Dried blood caked the wound and also marred his face and neck where it had run.

Without uncovering his face, Nick nodded. "Yeah…yeah. Just…gimme a minute," he said, breathing heavily.

Brass went to check on the officers who were still working to clear the house and met them as they were coming back from the upstairs. "Anything guys?" As they shook their heads, he asked, "What about the attic?"

"It's clear too, sir," one of them answered.

"Okay, listen…I want one of you at the door…one of you start securing the outside. Backup should be here any minute and I want the house swept again…every inch. Got it?"

"Yes, sir!" they both answered and left for their assignments.

The captain went back over to the others and leaned over. "How's he doin'?"

"I'm all right," Nick mumbled before anyone else could answer.

"Yeah, you look all right," Warrick answered, trying to sound sarcastic but failing to hide his worry.

"Help me up." Nick took his arm away from his face and braced it on the floor beside him, rising up a bit.

Catherine looked unsure. "Maybe you should stay still…wait for the paramedics."

"I don't need paramedics," he said irritably as he tried to get up on his own but found his legs tangled up in the wire rack. "At least get me off this thing."

"Here…come on." Warrick moved beside him and put his arm around him for support. As he helped Nick up to a sitting position he reached around the front of him as well, earning a howl of pain and a curse from his friend. Scared of what might be wrong, he asked anxiously, "What? What?"

Nick gritted his teeth and pulled his injured arm closer against his body. "Just…it's broken…I think this arm is broken. Take it easy."

"Sorry, man." Warrick looked at him, wide-eyed, afraid to touch him again. "Anything else?"

Nick shook his head, fighting down the queasiness that the pain had caused. "It's okay…it's okay…come on." He leaned forward and Warrick put his arm around him again, this time taking care to avoid his injury, and a moment later both of them were sitting side by side on the kitchen floor leaning against the refrigerator. Nick put his head back and looked up at Brass and Catherine who were now anxiously looking down at him. "I'm okay," he said. "Did you find Mrs. Bruner? Or the kids? Are they here?"

Catherine's mouth hung open, surprised, although she realized she shouldn't have been. Of course Nick's concern would be for someone other than himself. She looked at the captain and then back at Nick. "No…not yet. It doesn't look like anyone else is in the house. Nick…what the hell happened?"

* * *

><p><strong>Thank you so much for reading and hopefully you'll post a little review letting me know what you think. Again I'm so sorry for the delay and promise to do better. I really, really appreciate those who have stuck with me and are still interested and reading. It means a lot to me. Thank you!<strong>


	8. Chapter 8

_Catherine's mouth hung open, surprised, although she realized she shouldn't have been. Of course Nick's concern would be for someone other than himself. She looked at the captain and then back at Nick. "No…not yet. It doesn't look like anyone else is in the house. Nick…what the hell happened?"_

Nick sighed. "She took 'em. She has the kids...had 'em all along."

"But...why?" Warrick asked.

"Are they okay?" Catherine asked at the same time.

"They seemed fine," Nick answered. "Confused...a little scared...but fine. And why? I don't know. She seems to think they're in some kind of danger...that their father is going to hurt them."

"Their father?" Brass looked perplexed. "But they aren't related."

"I know...I don't know...maybe they are. Guess we need to check that out." Nick's head was still leaned back against the refrigerator, and he closed his eyes.

The others looked at each other and then Warrick spoke. "Nick? Are you..."

Nick opened his eyes and interrupted, "I'm okay."

"How long have they been gone?" asked Brass. "Any idea where they went?"

Nick shook his head. "She had 'em down in the cellar. Took 'em out...I don't know...an hour or so ago? Two? Hard to tell."

The faint sound of sirens could be heard in the distance as Warrick asked, "So what happened to _you_?"

"I'm an idiot." Nick rolled his eyes. "Came back here to get my phone...we got to talking about how the kids might have hidden somewhere in one of the houses, and she said I could look around. Then I noticed the root cellar door...could tell it had been opened recently, even though she said it hadn't. That should have tipped me off, but...shit..."

"The sweet little old lady act got to you?" Brass asked.

"No...not really. I mean, yeah, I trusted her, but...I don't think it's an act."

"C'mon, Nick," the captain scoffed. "She kidnapped those kids...and _you._"

"I know...I know...but...there was just something. The way she was...it was like she was really afraid for them. Like she was really trying to help them."

"By kidnapping them?" Catherine asked incredulously.

Warrick furrowed his brow. "If that would keep them safe from whatever she's afraid of, then I guess it makes sense." He looked at Nick. "But then what happened to you?"

Nick sighed, even more embarrassed at having been outsmarted...and overtaken...by an old woman, but he told them, "Once I discovered the root cellar, she said I could check down there too...was really concerned about me being careful on the steps and all...and then..." He laughed a little, not really believing it himself, and then looked up. "She shoved me. Almost from the top...while I was reaching up for the light...she shoved me all the way down the steps."

"You fell down the stairs?" Warrick asked, fighting back a grin.

"I didn't fall _down_, Warrick." Nick gave his friend an annoyed look. "Those steps are narrow, man...and _cement_! Look at 'em!" He leaned his head in the direction of the cellar. "I had my arm up in the air and it was dark and...man..." He shook his head. "I went flying. Into the _wall_ at the bottom. See my _head_?" He leaned over toward Warrick. "See it?"

"Okay! Okay! I know! I'm sorry!" his friend answered. He hadn't meant to make light of what had happened, but Nick didn't seem to be _seriously_ hurt, and considering how much Warrick was trying to push back thinking about any "What if's" along with the guilt he was feeling over it...well, if he _acted_ like things were okay then maybe things _were_ okay. But they weren't. The kids were still missing and Nick was injured. "I'm sorry," he said again.

Nick scowled in return. "She took me by surprise."

"I know! I'm sorry!"

"Well, she did," said Nick, almost pouting.

"I said I know!" Warrick was genuinely sorry, but when he saw Nick trying to hold back his amusement as well, he knew he hadn't really offended his friend.

Catherine stood looking down at the both of them, hands on her hips. "C'mon, guys, cut it out. Nick...what happened then?"

He shifted his position on the floor, trying to get more comfortable, before answering her. "Well, I was out cold for awhile...not sure how long. I woke up and managed to get up the stairs and get the light on..._without_ falling." He gave Warrick a sideways glance. "The kids were there...hiding under a blanket in the corner. They were leery...scared of me...but then she...Mrs. Bruner...she came back and told me to go over where the kids were." He paused and added sheepishly, "She had my gun. Took it off of me while I was out of it, I guess."

"Yeah, she had your phone too," said Catherine. "She busted it up and tried to pin it on the pervert next door. But her print was on the inside."

"Figures." Nick continued, "She came down there and was rambling on about the good old days and how parents...fathers...don't respect their kids today...how it's not safe anywhere...talking about her dolls and all kinds of crazy shit. Anyway, she went back upstairs and after awhile she called down...made the kids come up. And now..." He looked around the kitchen. "I guess they're gone."

Flashing red and blue lights from the windows were now illuminating the dark living room. Brass sighed. "All right...I'm goin' outside...I'm sure the sheriff is gonna show up and want some answers." He looked up as the front door opened. Multiple police cars could be seen on the street, and two paramedics came inside the house. The captain held up a hand and waved them back to the kitchen. Turning to Catherine, he said, "Let's get this place turned inside out...there's gotta be something here to tell us where she went...and why."

"I'm not staying." She looked down at Nick. "I'm going with _you_to the hospital."

He sat up straighter and pulled his injured arm in closer to himself. "I'm not going to the hospital. I'm going back to the lab with you guys and see what we can dig up on this lady and those kids."

The other two CSIs looked at Brass, Catherine with concern on her face and Warrick rolling his eyes. He was the one to speak next as the paramedics stood by waiting to see what was going to happen. "You gotta at least let them check you out, man. Then we'll get back to the lab."

Nick eyed him warily then looked at the others staring down at him. Resigned, he uttered under his breath, "Shit," and then said, "All right...come on then."

Catherine looked relieved as the paramedics went to work examining Nick's head injury first, but then her eyes opened wide. "Damn it!" She pulled her cell phone out. "I need to let Grissom know what's going on." She dialed the number and held the phone to her ear, pacing the kitchen. "Gil? Catherine..."

Nick let out a hiss of pain as one of the paramedics cleaned the wound on his head. "Gonna need some stitches in that," the woman said as she pressed a bandage over it. "Okay...look up...down..." She shined a penlight in his eyes, gauging their reaction to the light.

"Warrick." Catherine nodded at him to come with her as she put her phone away. He took another look at Nick who was now carefully being helped off with his jacket by the paramedics and then stood up and followed her to the other side of the kitchen. She sighed. "Grissom's coming over with Sara. But he wants me to stay here and get started since I'm up to speed on what's been going on." She glanced over where Nick was being attended to. "You go with him then...but you'd better keep me posted," she warned.

"I will," he assured her. "I think I'll..." He stopped mid-sentence as a commotion across the room got his attention. Nick and the paramedics seemed to be having some sort of disagreement that appeared to quickly be escalating. He went over to them and saw that the problem seemed to be the fact that Nick did not want to go with them in the ambulance.

"I don't need an ambulance! This is ridiculous!" Nick looked up as Warrick approached. "You can take me over there, right?"

Warrick looked at the paramedics and shrugged. "I don't know. Is that okay?"

The female EMT finished tying off the splint she had put on Nick's arm and sat back on her heels. "Well, we can't force him to go at all, so...if that's what you want to do..."

"Lemme see that." Warrick leaned over to take a closer look at Nick's arm and let out a low whistle when he saw it. "Man, that's nasty!" The arm was completely bruised with several different colors below the elbow, and halfway between it and the wrist there was a sickening bulge under the skin. He stood up straight and looked at the woman. "Yeah...he's goin'. My car's out front."

* * *

><p>Catherine had stayed at the scene as long as she could, but being in the house and worrying about Nick and feeling like she wasn't getting anything accomplished led her to approach Grissom as he searched through an upstairs closet and announce that she was going back to the lab. "You've got Sara here with you and plenty of other people, not to mention the fact that this place has been searched in one way or another at least two...no, <em>three<em> times already including Nick's search. I think we need to find some background on this woman and the kids and see if there's any _non_-physical evidence telling us where they might be."

The supervisor had agreed, knowing there was no talking her out of it, and she had returned to the lab and gone straight to the audiovisual technician. "Archie, cross-reference Ruth Bruner with the kids and their families. Go back as far as you can and include her family as well. If the kids aren't related, there's got to be _something_ that ties them together."

"Or makes her think they're tied together," said Archie. "Maybe she's just a crazy old woman."

Catherine leaned over his shoulder and watched the screen as he scanned records. "Maybe. But if she is...she's a _smart_ crazy old woman."

Archie entered a few more searches and looked over his shoulder. "You know, this could take awhile. I can come to your office when I'm done if you want."

"I don't have awhile, Archie," she answered and pulled up a chair to sit next to him. "We're on borrowed time. She could be getting farther away every minute."

He nodded and examined the screen. "Okay, well...still nothing coming up on her, just like the last time I searched. No trouble with the husband, owned a business, raised a daughter..." He double clicked on one of the files. "Uh oh…"

"What?" Catherine leaned forward to see what he was looking at.

"Well, I don't know if it relates at all, but it's pretty freaky. Take a look." He pointed to the screen and clicked a link, opening up a photo of a newspaper article. At the top was a mug shot of a dark-haired man in his mid-thirties. The man's face was hard, his expression angry, and his eyes blank.

Catherine put a hand to her mouth. "Oh my God."

* * *

><p>"You'd better stay where you are," Warrick warned.<p>

"I don't need to lie down," Nick huffed as he sat up in the narrow bed. The two men were in one of the examination rooms in the emergency department of Desert Palm Hospital waiting for the doctor to come back with some test results. Besides having x-rays taken of his arm, Nick had also been subjected to a CT scan to make sure that his head injury was no more serious on the inside than it looked on the outside. "How long have we been waiting anyway?"

Warrick checked his watch. "I dunno...couple of hours maybe? Not that long."

"We need to be out there helping to find those kids, not wasting time here."

"Yeah, well..." Warrick tilted his head and looked at him. "If you're plannin' on goin' anywhere, you're gonna need your pants. Pull that sheet up, man, you're hurtin' my eyes."

Nick frowned at him and pulled the sheet up, covering the bottom of the hospital gown he wore. "Why don't you go see what's taking so long?" he asked.

"You need to chill, man. You still gotta get that arm casted anyway." Warrick watched as his friend sighed, looking dejected and resigned to the fact that he was going to have to stay put until he was cleared by the doctors. But truth be told, he looked like he could use a rest. "Have you had any sleep since this started?"

"Nah." Nick shook his head. "Well, unless you count the time I was unconscious." He laughed a little.

"I don't. What about food? You eat or drink anything?" When Nick did not respond, he added, "That's what I thought. Man, you're not gonna be in any shape to go chasin' after anybody. Hell, you'd probably keel over sittin' in the AV lab." He shook his head. "I think you're stayin' here for awhile."

"Yeah, we'll see," Nick said with no intention of staying.

"Yeah, we will."

"Look, Warrick, lay off." Nick's dark eyes stared almost right through his friend. "Forget about me, okay? I'm all right. It's those kids we need to worry about."

"I know, man, but I just think..."

"I promised her," Nick said quietly.

"What?"

Nick looked at him. "Allison. I promised her that I'd find them and bring them home."

_Damn it_. Warrick sighed. "I'm sorry, man."

"It's okay."

"I mean...about the whole thing," Warrick said. "I shouldn't have left you there alone."

"I wasn't alone. It's not your fault. I'm the one who went back in there," Nick answered.

"Yeah, and then _I_went back in there...and you were there...the whole time...and I missed it."

Nick shrugged. "Not exactly in plain sight."

"A CSI's not supposed to find things in plain sight. We're supposed to investigate...find everything that other people miss," Warrick insisted. "_You _didn't miss that cellar. But I did."

"Aw hell, Warrick...she probably covered it up better after I was down there. And anyway, who knows what she might have done if you'd found it? She had my gun." Nick paused and looked down a minute before looking back up and giving the other man a grin. "You might have even fallen down the stairs too."

Warrick tried to keep from laughing, but Nick's sudden switch to humor got the better of him and he let it out with nervous relief that his friend wasn't holding him responsible for anything and that it looked like he was going to be all right.

A knock on the open door drew their attention. "I hate to break this up..." An older, balding man in a white coat entered the room. He looked down at the clipboard he was carrying. "Mr. Stokes, looks like you're a pretty lucky guy. The CT scan showed no signs of anything worse than that nasty bump on your head and the laceration that we stitched up. Still..." He lowered the clipboard and crossed his arms, looking at Nick. "You do have a concussion, and you show signs of exhaustion. From what I hear you've been through quite a lot in the past couple of days, and I'd like to keep you here for a bit...give you time to get your strength back and make sure everything is okay."

Nick was shaking his head before the doctor finished speaking. "I appreciate it, doc, but I can't stay...I don't need to stay. I'm working on a case, and...I just have to go."

The doctor nodded. "I kind of figured that's what you were going to say. All right, hang tight for a few minutes. Orthopedics said the arm break was clean...no complications, so they're going to get a cast on it, and then you can go. I won't make it 'Against Medical Advice', but please...take it easy, okay?" He looked over at Warrick.

"I'll watch out for him," Warrick said with conviction.

"Good." Turning back to Nick the doctor said, "Nice to meet you, son. You take care of yourself."

* * *

><p>"Is that the only article?" Catherine asked Archie.<p>

"So far. It's not that old, but…it's a big city, Catherine…a lot going on. Something like this is bad, but…"

"Yeah…I know. As far as Vegas is concerned, not big news…unfortunately." She sighed. "Try the court records."

Archie entered a new search. "On it."

"Hey. Any luck?" Warrick asked as he and Nick entered the AV lab.

Catherine turned around, surprised. "What are you guys doing back here?" She took in Nick's tired and harried appearance, a large white bandage on his forehead and his left arm in a sling. "Nick!" She went to him and put her hand on his shoulder, looking him up and down. "Why aren't you in the hospital?" Then she looked at Warrick. "Why isn't he in the hospital?"

"Don't look at me." Warrick sank into a chair and sighed, rubbing his eyes. "You think you can keep him there, be my guest."

She turned her attention back to the other CSI. "Nick…what the hell?"

"The doctor said it was all right, Catherine. I'm okay…really."

She looked questioningly at Warrick.

"He's right…the doc said he could leave…but he said to take it easy and that he would rather have him stay there." He leaned forward in the chair.

"I knew it. Nick…"

Nick cut her off. "Did you guys find anything?"

Catherine sighed, knowing there was no use arguing with him. "Archie's still digging, but yeah…something interesting, but we aren't sure if it means anything. Seems that soon after Mrs. Bruner's husband died eight years ago, their daughter died too."

"Their daughter?" asked Warrick, standing up.

"Thirty-two years old…she was murdered by her husband. At least…he was arrested for it according to the article we found. Looks like there was a history of abuse there. Still…not sure if that means anything."

"And no connection between her and the kids? Or the kids to each other?" asked Nick.

"Not yet," Archie said over his shoulder as he continued to work.

"Any more evidence at the house?"

"Looks like we're about to find out." Warrick nodded at the hallway where Sara and Grissom could be seen heading toward the layout room. He, Nick, and Catherine left the AV lab and followed them.

"What have you got?" Nick asked as they entered the room.

"Nick?" Sara looked up from the table. "I thought you were…"

"Yeah…I'm not. So what have you got?" he repeated.

Grissom was laying the few items out on the table. "Not much."

"We went through her mail," said Sara. "Nothing much but charity solicitations and Good Housekeeping magazines, but there was this letter from an old friend from her days at the Horseshoe. A man…just stuff about the family and talking about getting together to reminisce, but it wouldn't hurt to check him out."

"You think maybe she had an affair with him back in the day or somethin'?" asked Warrick.

"Who knows? There wasn't anything else that stood out though." She pointed across the table to a stack of photographs. "We found those pictures in a drawer upstairs…some of them are a few years old but most of them are recent. From the houses we could see in some of them, they look like kids in the neighborhood."

Alarmed, Catherine asked, "She took pictures of them without them knowing it?"

Grissom shook his head. "They all look natural…the kids are happy…playing…smiling at her."

"Are there any of Allison or Sean?" Nick asked.

"Yes," the supervisor answered matter of factly. "But they look just like the rest of them. I can't see anything that stands out about them. Anyway…" He picked up a small piece of paper and put his glasses on to read it. "There was a plastic grocery bag in the trash…the receipt is dated yesterday…10:17AM at the market up the street." He held the receipt out farther as he looked at it. "Looks like she bought bread, milk, tea, cheese, lunch meat, napkins, paper plates, potato chips, and…apples." He finished and looked up at the others.

"The only other thing we thought was worth bringing back to look at was her checkbook." Sara picked it up. "She's pretty meticulous with the register…we flipped through it…nothing stood out, but we'll get Archie to pull her account statements and take a look."

Nick had been listening to Sara and Grissom as they detailed the items from the house, but he couldn't shake the feeling that they weren't going to find anything that would be of use to them. There was something about this woman that wasn't right, but it wasn't anything he could put his finger on and he was sure the same could be said for any evidence they might find. But suddenly his eyes grew wide and his mouth fell open as realization hit him.

Warrick was the first to notice, and then the others looked up as he said, "Nick? What's the matter?"

Nick looked at their faces staring at him and declared, "I know where they went," and turned and ran out of the room.

* * *

><p><strong>First of all, thank you for the nice thoughts about my dad. I appreciate it. I hope you like this new chapter. We're getting near the end of the story, so I hope everyone is still interested and enjoying it. Thanks so much for reading and reviewing! :-) Thanks to Praetor Corvinus for being a great consultant and for reviewing this before I published it!<strong>


	9. Chapter 9

_Nick had been listening to Sara and Grissom as they detailed the items from the house, but he couldn't shake the feeling that they weren't going to find anything that would be of use to them. There was something about this woman that wasn't right, but it wasn't anything he could put his finger on and he was sure the same could be said for any evidence they might find. But suddenly his eyes grew wide and his mouth fell open as realization hit him._

_Warrick was the first to notice, and then the others looked up as he said, "Nick? What's the matter?"_

_Nick looked at their faces staring at him and declared, "I know where they went," and turned and ran out of the room._

* * *

><p>The others stood for a moment all looking at each other before finally Sara spoke, "Did I miss something?"<p>

"If you did...I did too," answered Warrick as he headed for the door after Nick. The others followed closely behind him. "Nick! Hey...Nick! Wait up, man!" Warrick called down the hallway after his friend.

But Nick did not slow his steps as he headed quickly toward the reception area of the lab. Just as he passed the desk near the front door, however, he did stop...so suddenly that Warrick almost ran into the back of him. Nick turned around to face him. "You got your cell phone on you?"

"Of course, but..."

"I'm gonna need it on the way there. I need to look up the exact location."

By now the others had gathered behind Warrick, looking just as confused as he did when he asked, "Location of what, man? Where are you going?"

Grissom stepped up then. "Nick, slow down. Tell us what's going on. Where do you think they are?"

Frustrated with the questions and the delay, Nick took a deep breath to calm himself before speaking. "Okay...look...when I was down in the cellar with the kids and she came down and was talking to us...she was talking about her father and how good he was to her and how happy she was back then and how they had tea parties in the backyard and _picnics_…at Lorenzi Park." When the others just stared at him without responding, he said again, "_Picnics_! She loved those picnics where she felt safe and loved, and that's what she wants for the kids." Exasperated when the only response he got was more blank stares, he added, "The receipt. Yesterday. She bought paper plates...napkins...chips...lunch meat...cheese...just yesterday. She's taking them on a picnic...to Lorenzi Park!"

Now the confused group looked at each other, brows furrowed, before Catherine said skeptically, but gently, "Nick...a picnic? That's kind of a stretch based on a few grocery items."

He shook his head. "You didn't hear her, Catherine. It was like...it was like she went back in time...like in a trance...when she was talking about it. I think maybe she had some sort of...I don't know...break in reality or something."

Catherine was still doubtful. "But still..."

"Cath, we're losing time here!" he insisted. "It's already daylight, and if they go there and we miss them...I just...I don't know where we'd look next. It might be our only chance," he finished simply, his initial enthusiasm waning in the wake of their doubt.

"Nick...it sounds like a possibility," Grissom said hesitantly. "But, like Catherine said..."

"Hey! Guys?" It was Archie calling urgently down the hall to them from the door of the AV lab. "I got some more info you might want to take a look at."

The group turned and headed for the lab and Nick, still aggravated and wanting to get moving, reluctantly followed them. Once there, everyone gathered around behind the AV tech as he projected his computer screen onto the large screen on the wall so that they could all see.

"I found an old credit card in Ruth Bruner's daughter's name," Archie explained. "No annual fee to be paid so I guess it just stayed open after her murder...hasn't been used in years."

"How does that help us, Arch?" asked Warrick.

"Well...it hasn't been used in years...until last night." He pulled up a transaction list on the computer and zoomed in on it. "Right there...$39.99 at the Texas Station hotel...last night."

Catherine looked at the others. "Could she have stayed there with the kids?"

"Archie..." Nick leaned over the man's shoulder. "Can you bring that location up on a map?"

"Sure." He pulled up a satellite image of the Las Vegas area and typed the name into his computer. A marker lit up on the screen indicating the hotel. "2101 Texas Star Lane."

"How far is that from Mrs. Bruner's house?" asked Sara.

He hit the keys a few more times and another pinpoint lit up on the map on the opposite side of the screen from the hotel. "About 6 miles."

Nick walked around the tech's desk and up to the large screen. "What's that?" He pointed to a round area of green and brown on the map just south of the hotel.

Archie zoomed in a little more on the map and the identification of several streets and buildings came up. He scrolled the image a little more to the left and text popped up over the location. Lorenzi Park.

Nick set his jaw and turned to look at the others. "I _knew_ it!" He pushed past them and out the door, muttering again under his breath, "I knew it."

"Nick!" Grissom called after him, but the man did not stop. He looked at Warrick. "Go with him. I'll call Brass and we'll meet you guys over there, but _don't_ do anything until we get there."

"You got it." Warrick left the lab, calling after Nick as he ran up the hallway. When he caught up to him he said, "Hey, c'mon, man, hold up...you ain't drivin' yourself."

"Warrick, I can..."

"You're _not_ driving yourself. I'll go pull my car around. You wait for me out front," Warrick told him pointedly.

"Okay...okay..." Nick said reluctantly. He started to walk outside with Warrick but suddenly stopped short. "I'll be right back." He turned around and headed quickly away.

"Now what?" Warrick shouted after him.

"I just gotta get somethin'," Nick called over his shoulder. "I'll meet you out front."

* * *

><p>Ruth Bruner flapped the checkered blanket a couple of times in the wind and then laid it on the ground. "Set that jar there on the corner, would you please, dear?" She pointed at a large jar full of tea, and Sean Elliott did as he was told, placing the jar to hold the blanket down. "And the basket? Over on this side please." The boy took the wicker picnic basket and put it on the opposite corner from the tea. "There! That ought to do," the old woman said, looking pleased at the spread before her.<p>

"Ew! It's all wet!" Allison Ruh complained, looking at the damp grass clippings that clung to her ankles above her shoes.

"That's why we brought towels, dear. Here...wipe your shoes off before you get on the blanket." She handed the little girl a towel.

"It's not a very nice day for a picnic," said Sean, staring at Mrs. Bruner with narrow eyes. "Let's go back to the hotel and watch TV."

"Yeah!" Allison jumped up and down excitedly. "Dora the Explorer!"

"Children," Mrs. Bruner replied sternly. "That's no way to say 'thank you' when someone is doing something nice for you." Her expression brightened. "The sun will be out soon, I'm sure of it. The sun is always out here, and Papa..." She shook her head. "No...no, he can't come. But I know how to make a nice picnic like he did. We have all kinds of good food, and I made the cookies myself. You like my cookies, don't you?"

Both children nodded.

"Well then! Maybe we'll play some games first and then eat. If you're good, you can have the cookies later." She smiled at them and then frowned. "Oh dear...you're shivering. You forgot your jackets. Well, no matter. The sun will be out soon." She looked toward the sky. "The sun always comes out here."

The children sat down cross-legged on the blanket opposite of Mrs. Bruner as she opened the tote bag she had brought and pulled out a checkerboard. "When are we going to go home?" asked Sean.

The old woman did not look up as she set up the board with the round black and red pieces. "There's no need to go anywhere, dear. You're perfectly safe right here. He won't be able to find you. Nothing bad ever happens here." She looked up and smiled at him.

"But...nothing bad ever happens at _my_ house," he answered. "I want to go home, Mrs. Bruner."

She shook her head and made a "tsk tsk" sound. "I told you, dear. It's _grandma_. Call me 'grandma'." She looked back at the game board. "Now...who wants to go first?"

* * *

><p>Warrick eyed the paper bag at Nick's feet on the passenger side of the car as he drove toward the park. "What'd you have to get anyway?"<p>

"Just something I need." Nick dismissed him. "Take 515...it's faster." He pointed at the exit as they approached it and then looked behind them as they passed it. "Hey!"

"This time of day? No way, man...we'd get hung up for sure." Warrick looked over at him. "Doesn't matter how fast we get there anyway...we gotta wait for Brass and the uniforms before we do anything."

Nick laughed. "Yeah, sure...'cause that's how you work, right? Always followin' the rules?"

Warrick grinned in spite of himself, remembering having this exact conversation with Catherine as they had gone to Ruth Bruner's house in search of Nick. Only he was the one ready to rush in without backup. "Well, we'll see what happens."

"Yeah, we will."

They were quiet for a moment and then Warrick spoke, "You really think that's where they are? On a day like this?"

Nick leaned his head against the cold window and looked up at the gray sky. "They have to be, Warrick...they just have to be."

"But why, man? Why's she doing this?"

"I don't know. Maybe...maybe losing her daughter had something to do with it. Her son-in-law was arrested as the murderer...maybe she thinks these kids..." Nick shook his head. "No, damn it...her daughter's _husband_ is the one who was abusive, not her father. She's just sure the kids are in danger from their father."

Warrick mulled it all over in his mind, trying to make some sense of it as well, but couldn't come up with anything. He looked over at Nick and found him with his head still resting against the window, eyes closed, but a pained look on his face that clearly showed he was not sleeping. "You take any of those pain meds they gave you?"

Nick looked up. "Huh?"

"I said did you take any of those pain meds?"

"I don't need 'em. Not right now." Nick shook his head. "They said they'd make me sleepy."

Warrick nodded. "You could take 'em and go home and rest...let us take care of this."

"Yeah, like that's gonna happen," Nick snorted.

"I know. Just thought I'd toss it out there."

The sound of Nick's cell phone ringing interrupted the conversation before Nick could add anything else to it. He had put the phone in his right pocket where it would be easily accessible with his good arm, but now with the seatbelt on he found it difficult to reach in there. He squirmed to his right, trying to get enough slack in the belt to get his hand under it, but his left arm was lying against it in the sling. "Damn it," he cursed under his breath as the incessant ringing continued to play.

"Need some help?"

"No," Nick answered, annoyed, as he finally got a grip on the phone only to have it hit the floor when he tried to answer it with one hand. "Shit." He leaned over as far as he could with the seatbelt on and reached out, but there was a good four inches between his fingers and the phone. He leaned back, breathing heavily. "Okay...yeah...maybe...some help would be good."

Warrick laughed and earned a "Fuck you" in return. He pulled the car over and put it in park. The phone had stopped ringing by now, but he leaned over and stretched his arm out, grabbing it and then handing it to Nick.

Nick looked at the missed call display. "Archie," he said, and hit redial. While he waited for the AV tech to answer, he looked at Warrick and raised his eyebrows. "What are you waiting for? Drive!"

Warrick rolled his eyes at him and slowly pulled away from the curb. The truth was that they were very close to the park now, and he really didn't want to get there and have to try to keep Nick from searching it without their backup. So he took his time as he reached the corner of Valley View and Washington and turned right. By now Nick was talking to Archie, but from Nick's responses he really couldn't make out what they were talking about.

"Yeah...right...aw, man, so he did it then? For how long? I still don't think that...she did? Where are...? Are you fucking kidding me? Yeah, yeah...thanks." He shut off the phone, quietly fuming.

"What's up?" Warrick looked over at him.

"That article about Mrs. Bruner's son-in-law being arrested for her daughter's murder?"

"Yeah?"

"Arch found the case files and the follow-up articles. He was convicted...on death row up in Ely for it." Nick reached for his seatbelt buckle as they turned into the nearly empty parking lot at the park.

Warrick pulled the car into a spot facing the large green space dotted with trees and turned off the engine. There were no other officers in sight. "I'm gonna radio Brass and let him know where we are."

Nick had gotten his seatbelt undone and was now fumbling to get it off of him. "She had kids, Warrick."

"Huh?"

"Two kids. Her daughter had two kids." He reached for the door handle. "Mrs. Bruner's grandchildren." He opened the car door and was out before Warrick had a chance to stop him.

* * *

><p><strong>I know this is kind of short, but it's leading to the conclusion. One more chapter to go and all of your questions will be answered! I hope there are a few of you out there that are still interested. Thanks so much to those who read and especially review. I really appreciate it and your feedback means a lot to me. :-) Thanks to Praetor Corvinus for being my betasounding board again on this chapter. :-)**


	10. Chapter 10

**Final chapter! Hope you enjoy it!**

* * *

><p><em>Nick had gotten his seatbelt undone and was now fumbling to get it off of him. "She had kids, Warrick."<em>

_"Huh?"_

_"Two kids. Her daughter had two kids." He reached for the door handle. "Mrs. Bruner's grandchildren." He opened the car door and was out before Warrick had a chance to stop him._

"Nick!" Warrick called as he jumped out of the car after his friend. He followed him as Nick ran to the edge of the parking lot. "Hold up, man!"

"There!" Nick pointed across the grassy field to where Ruth Bruner sat on a blanket with the children, about 25 yards out, her back to the parking lot. "I knew it...I _knew_ it!" He only got one foot on the grass however before he was pulled back by Warrick grabbing onto his jacket.

"No way, man. Brass said they're almost here. We gotta wait."

"Lemme go," Nick hissed as he tried to jerk away from Warrick's grasp, but his friend held fast.

"They're not goin' anywhere." Warrick pulled him closer and spoke low and softy. "They don't even see us, and if they try to leave...there's a lot of room out there. We'll stop them."

Nick glared at him. "Let...me..._go_." When the other man did not comply, his expression softened and he sighed. "I'm not gonna do anything, okay?" He looked up and down the road leading to the lot and then back at his friend. "I'll wait." Warrick appeared skeptical, and Nick added. "I will...c'mon, man...look, there they are."

Warrick looked up and saw several marked and unmarked police cars approaching but without lights or sirens. Still, their presence in the nearly deserted park was obvious.

Captain Brass got out of his car and made his way to the CSIs. He looked across the field and then noted that Warrick still had a grasp on Nick's jacket. "Trouble?" he asked.

"No." Warrick let go and shook his head. "No trouble."

"Good." He nodded toward the old woman and children. "She see you?"

The other two looked out that way. "Not yet," said Warrick.

* * *

><p>Ruth Bruner was not a stupid woman. She knew that they would still be looking for her, which is why she set her picnic up out in the open where she could see in all directions. She had changed her position on the blanket several times, keeping a close eye on the three different parking lots around that section of the park. No, she wasn't stupid. But she was old. And forgetful. And as she was halfway through her third game of checkers with Allison she became very engrossed, trying in vain to teach the child that the pieces had to stay on the squares and could only be moved when it was her turn. Her concentration on the game meant that the arrival of several cars in the lot behind her went unnoticed. But it did not go unnoticed by the children.<p>

Sean had been sitting next to Allison absentmindedly shuffling a deck of Old Maid cards while the girl played checkers with Mrs. Bruner. He looked up as he saw the black SUV pull into the lot but did not pay it much attention. A few cars had come and gone already this morning...most of them taking a dog for a short romp and then leaving. But this time two men got out of the vehicle and did not leave. They were looking his way. And he recognized one of them.

It had been dim in the basement with just the one light shining over the stairs, but there was no mistaking the dark haired man standing next to the tall, black man in the parking lot. Sean took notice of the fact that the men had seen them, and then he quickly lowered his head so that the old woman would not see him looking that direction and wonder why. However, he was not quick enough to avoid being seen by Allison.

As Mrs. Bruner studied the checker board, Allison saw Sean looking up and followed his gaze to the parking lot. "Hey!" she exclaimed as she stood up and pointed that way. "It's Nick! There's Nick!" She waved as she jumped up and down.

Startled by the girl's antics, the old woman quickly looked behind her and saw the cause of it. She shushed the child and told her to sit back down.

"But..."

"Sit down right _now_, young lady!" Mrs. Bruner said harshly.

The little girl did as she was told, but she was not happy about it. Her small mouth turned down in a frown as her lower lip trembled. "I don't want to play anymore," she mumbled.

"Now, dear, we'll just finish this game and then start our lunch." The old woman's tone was considerably sweeter than it had been a moment ago. She glanced over her shoulder again.

"The police are here," Sean stated matter of factly. "You have to let us go now."

"You're not behaving very nicely, dear," she told him. "You don't want to go with them. They'll take you back and he'll hurt you like he did your mother."

Allison's eyes shot up to look at her and now the tears that had filled them overflowed and spilled down her cheek. "Someone hurt my mommy?"

"No," said Sean, eyes narrowed. "She's trying to trick us. She keeps saying we're related and we're _not_."

"Dear," the old woman shook her head sadly, "you really must learn to be more respectful. I'm trying to _help_ you." When she saw the children looking toward the parking lot again, she spoke sternly. "Stop looking at them! Here..." She gathered up the checker board and pieces and put them back into her bag. "Now you children...both of you...sit right here and we'll have our lunch." She turned around so that she was facing the parking lot now and motioned for the children to sit in front of her. They slowly came over, each of them giving one more look toward the officers and then sitting down on the blanket with their backs to them. "Now...isn't this better?" Mrs. Bruner smiled at them as she set out the paper plates.

* * *

><p>"Well, they've seen us now." Brass stood between Warrick and Nick, watching as the little girl shouted and waved and then was quieted by the old woman. As the group switched positions...Mrs. Bruner now facing the parking lot and the officers...the captain pulled out his radio to call in the situation. "Control, this is Captain Brass. We need a tactical team...hostage situation..."<p>

Nick's face registered the shock he felt at the words. "No, no, no, no..." He shook his head vehemently, but the captain turned his back on him and finished his call. When he turned back around, the CSI was right in his face. "Jim! You can't surround 'em with a bunch of armored guys. It's an old lady and a couple of kids, for Christ's sake!"

"An old lady with your gun," Warrick spoke up.

"Yeah...and if she feels cornered, she might use it," said Nick. He looked at Brass. "Lemme go talk to her."

The captain laughed and waved him off. "Yeah...right. That's not gonna happen."

"Look...I'm the only one she really knows...that she's talked to...told things to. I've spent time with her, and now...now that we know more about her...I can…just...lemme do this."

Brass faced Nick and put his hands on his shoulders as he spoke. "Listen to me, Nicky. You're a CSI. You're not a cop, you're not S.W.A.T., and you're not a hostage negotiator. I know you mean well, but I'm not sending you out into the middle of that field for that crazy old woman to shoot you down with your own gun."

"You send anybody _but_ me and she'll shoot 'em down," Nick countered. He saw the captain considering what he'd just said, and added, "Or the kids."

"But you said she's protecting them," said Warrick.

"Yeah...and she might think that's the only way to do it at this point." He looked back at Brass. "Please, Jim."

The captain took another glance at the people having a picnic and sighed. "All right. But you're wearin' a vest."

"I don't have time. And anyway, I can't get it on over this cast and sling. I'll be fine," he said as he started across the field.

* * *

><p>Mrs. Bruner had kept one careful eye on the men in the parking lot as she set out her picnic lunch, so she was ready when she saw the dark haired man walking toward them. She let him get to about the halfway point before she announced, "That's far enough." She looked at him then and smiled. "I don't think there's room for anyone else, dear."<p>

Nick stopped where he was and said to her, "I just want to talk to you, Mrs. Bruner."

Both children's heads swiveled around to look at him, but neither of them moved from their places. Allison raised her hand a little and gave a small wave.

He took a few more steps forward and saw the concern on the old woman's face and watched as she reached for her tote bag, pulling it close to her. He stopped walking and said again, "I just want to talk."

Mrs. Bruner looked down at the bag in her lap, running her wrinkled hands over it as she spoke. "I really don't think there's anything to talk about, dear. You should just go now and leave us to our picnic."

"I want to talk about Laura."

She jerked her head up to look at him. "What...you...you don't know anything about her."

"Yes, I do." He nodded. "But I think...maybe we could let the kids go play? While we talk?"

"No...no..." She mumbled as she looked down again and reached one hand into the bag. "I don't think that's a good idea. Not at all."

"I want to play," Allison whined softly.

"Hush!" Mrs. Bruner admonished her. "It's not safe."

"Mrs. Bruner?" Nick asked gently. "Just right there? On the swings?" He pointed to a small swing set to her right, close enough where she could keep an eye on them but not so close that they would be able to hear the conversation.

She looked doubtful but glanced over at the play area.

"It's right in the open...where no one can get them without you seeing. They'll be safe...and you can watch them from here," he tried to persuade her.

"Well...I don't..."

Nick addressed the children now. "Hey, kids...if Mrs. Bruner is nice and lets you play on the swings, you'll be good, right?" When they nodded he asked, "You'll stay right there and play until we say you can come back?" They nodded again, and all three of them looked at the old woman. "Would you let them go play then while we talk?"

She leaned over a bit, looking behind Nick at the cars and other officers in the parking lot. Brass and Warrick, along with two uniformed officers, had moved closer to them but still remained at what she considered to be a safe distance away. She took another look at the swing set nearby and then relented. "Okay...you can go."

Both children jumped up from the blanket and ran toward the play area but stopped when Nick called out to them.

"Kids? What do you say to Mrs. Bruner?"

They looked back at him and understood. "Thank you," they said in unison.

The response seemed to please her, and she said, "You're welcome, dears. Have fun." She looked at Nick and smiled. "Now, what was it you wanted to talk about?"

Her question as well as her newly softened demeanor threw him off guard. He had suspected that she was not entirely grounded in reality, but she seemed more erratic than ever now...changing from fierce protector to charming hostess in the blink of an eye. Her unpredictability was going to make it more difficult to make a connection with her. "Well...I think we should talk about getting those children home to their families. Don't you?"

"They _are_ with their family. I'm all they have left," she said sadly.

"But Mrs. Bruner, they're not..." He sighed, wondering exactly how to approach this. But before he could say anything else, he noticed that she was leaned over a bit looking behind him. He turned and saw that Brass, Warrick, and the officers had moved closer...enough so that they could hear them talking, but still at a distance. He looked back at the woman. "Don't worry about them. Let's just talk."

"I'm not going to let them take them," she said forcefully.

"I know...I know..." Nick spoke gently. "You took really good care of them. You kept them safe. But they need to go home now."

Mrs. Bruner smiled at him. "You're a nice young man. Why don't you sit down over here while we talk?" She patted the blanket.

There was no way Nick was going to sit down with her. Right now, standing up, he had an advantage over her even considering the fact that she had his gun. Looking down at her automatically put him in the superior position in the situation. And besides that he knew that once he sat down he would have a lot of trouble getting back up again with his injured arm, especially if anything went wrong and he had to move quickly. "I'm fine here. Listen...Mrs. Bruner...I know about Laura. I know what happened to her. I'm sorry."

The old woman's face darkened. "He had no right. Rotten, good for nothing...he had no right...no respect."

"You're right. He had no respect. He wasn't a good man...not like your father."

She stuck her chin out and said defiantly, "My father was a great man."

"I know...I know he was. He brought you on picnics, didn't he? Right here in this park. That must have been fun." Nick smiled.

"He did." She smiled back. "We played croquet while mama fixed our lunch."

"That sounds really nice. Your folks taught you really well, didn't they? I mean, they showed you how to raise children right. And you took really good care of Laura."

"Yes, but..."

"But something happened," Nick continued. "Something bad."

"I tried to tell her. She just kept saying he was going to change and that...that he was good to the children." She shook her head. "But he wasn't. I knew that."

"You're a smart woman." He thought he saw her blush slightly at the compliment.

"I like to think Papa had something to do with that. He encouraged play, but he also made sure I studied hard. I went to college, you know. Not many women did in those days. Of course, I didn't finish. I fell in love, got married, and had Laura. But I helped run the business, and I worked at the casino...whatever I had to do to help make sure she had a good childhood. But then..." Her face clouded over. "Something bad...yes...something bad happened." She looked up at him. "Paul. Paul happened."

"Mrs. Bruner...you know he's in prison now, right? On death row. He can't hurt anyone anymore."

"Oh, but he did hurt her. And it just got worse and I knew...I knew he'd kill her one day." She lowered her head, pulling the bag on her lap closer to her. "I had to keep the children safe." She looked up and over at the swings where Sean was giving Allison a push, the little girl squealing the higher she went.

Nick walked a little closer to the blanket while the old woman's attention was diverted.

"After he...they put the children in foster homes. I wanted them to stay with me...where they _belonged_..." She looked back up at Nick.

* * *

><p>Warrick, Brass, and two of the uniformed officers had slowly followed Nick at a distance as he made his way across the field, stopping at a point where they could still here what was going on and intervene if necessary but still far enough away so as not to upset the woman, at least judging by the fact that she had seen them and yet had not said anything about them. They listened as Nick talked to her, praising her and gaining her confidence while the children played nearby. They had considered at one point trying to remove the kids and get them to safety, but the proximity of the play area to the woman did not allow for any such action, especially since she still had the gun in the bag on her lap. They decided to let things play out with Nick and see what happened.<p>

"Hey, Rick," Brass whispered.

"Yeah?"

"I didn't know she had grandkids."

"Archie called while we were on the way here...told Nick the daughter's husband was convicted and on death row and that there were two kids. That's all I got out of him before he jumped out of the car." Warrick shrugged.

"She said they were in foster homes. You don't think...those can't really be her grandkids...can they?" The captain nodded toward the children.

"I have no idea." Warrick shook his head.

* * *

><p>"I would have protected them. I would have kept them safe," Mrs. Bruner said. "But they didn't even give me a chance. After he...he killed Laura...they wouldn't let me see them. It was like...like they blamed me. Like I didn't raise her right and I let him do it to her."<p>

"It wasn't your fault." Nick had crept a little closer and crouched down so that he was eye level with her, although he still didn't chance actually sitting down. "You did everything you could, but she wouldn't leave him, would she?"

She shook her head. "No. She said she loved him."

"You did your best. I know you did. What happened to her...and the kids...it wasn't your fault."

"The kids." She laughed. "Oh, the kids...well...they're fine now." She nodded with satisfaction and looked proudly at the children.

"Mrs. Bruner?'

"They're very well behaved, just like their mother."

"Mrs. Bruner? You know Allison and Sean aren't your grandchildren...don't you?" Nick spoke carefully and deliberately.

She continued to look at the kids as they played on the swing. "I just...I just wanted to keep them safe." Her eyes teared up and her hands began to shake. She gripped the bag in her lap tighter.

"I know you did. But they took them away. It wasn't your fault. But...you know what happened to them...don't you, Mrs. Bruner?"

She turned to look at him. Her eyes were red, and the look of sadness and reluctant acceptance tore at his heart as she tried one more time to convince him...and herself. "But...they're right there."

"No." He shook his head. "You know what happened to them," he said again gently. "To Jennie and Luke."

At the sound of their names, the old woman drew in a sudden gasp of air and visibly recoiled as though she had been struck. She looked at him, wide-eyed. "He killed them too."

"Yeah..." Nick nodded. "Yeah...he did. I'm sorry."

"He took them from the foster homes. I...I don't know why they let him. I _never_ would have let him. I would have kept them _safe_!"

"I know."

"I would have kept them _safe_!" she said again, this time breaking down in sobs. She pulled her arms around herself as she grieved. "I would have kept them safe."

Nick felt himself getting choked up at the sight of her. She never had been a very intimidating or frightening woman throughout this whole ordeal, but now she looked positively pitiful as she sat on the blanket crying alone among the paper plates and scattered Old Maid cards. He cleared his throat and said, "I know," as he put one knee down on the ground at the edge of the blanket and slowly reached for the bag in her lap. As he put his hand down on it, she looked up, her eyes meeting his, but she did not resist when he pulled the bag away from her. He looked inside and saw his Smith & Wesson SW99, the checkerboard, a coloring book, a box of crayons, and two yo-yos. He sighed heavily and looked over his shoulder, nodding, and the two uniformed officers came forward and helped Mrs. Bruner to her feet.

As the officers escorted the old woman back to the parking lot, Brass and Warrick came over to join Nick, Warrick lending a hand to Nick as he stood up. "You okay?" he asked.

"Yeah...I'm fine."

Brass patted him on the back. "Nice job, Nick."

"Is that true, man?" asked Warrick in a low voice. "Did he really kill the kids too?"

"Yeah." Nick took a deep breath and let it out, looking over at the children. Sean was watching them with a steady eye while Allison continued to play on the swing, oblivious to what was going on. "Arch told me on that last call."

"That was 8 years ago," said Brass. "What set her off?"

"His execution date is coming up. But he's filing final appeals. They'll never let him out, but..." Nick looked at the kids again. "I guess it set the wheels in motion for her." He walked away from the two men and toward the play area. Allison saw him coming and stopped swinging.

"Nick! Do you want to swing too? I can push you!"

He smiled at her and laughed a little. "Nah...I'd probably fall off." He gestured to his bad arm. "How about if we get you kids home?"

The little girl looked surprised and her eyes wandered to the now vacant picnic area. She then looked toward the parking lot. "Where is Mrs. Bruner going?" she asked.

"Don't worry, honey. She'll be okay."

"Good!" Allison jumped off of the swing and ran over to where he stood next to Sean.

"Are we really going home?" asked the little boy cautiously.

"Yep." Nick crouched down so that he could look both children in the eyes as he spoke. "I'm really proud of you guys. You did a great job being brave and staying safe."

"We did good!" Allison jumped up with her arms in the air.

"Yeah," Nick laughed. "You did." Then he looked at Sean and said again, "You did a good job, buddy. Thanks for taking care of her."

The little boy grinned and stood up taller, beaming at the praise.

It was the first time since this whole thing started that Nick had seen him show any type of positive emotion, and it was good to see. He stood up and ruffled the boy's hair. "C'mon...let's get you guys home."

As they walked toward the parking lot, Allison took his hand. "Are we gonna go in a police car?" she asked.

"Sure...is that okay?"

"Are you coming?"

They had reached the parking area and made their way to a cruiser where a social worker stood waiting next to Officer Mitchell. The children's parents had been made to wait at home pending whatever the outcome was of the situation. "I can't come, honey. There's probably not room in the car. But you'll be okay with Mitch here and Ms..." He looked at the woman.

"Watkins," she said with a smile.

"With Ms. Watkins," he finished. He watched as Mitch opened the back door of the car and Sean eagerly jumped in, asking questions of the officer about all of the things he saw inside the vehicle and wondering if they would get to use the siren. When Allison hesitated and looked up at him sadly, one finger in her mouth, he leaned over and told her, "You go on, okay? You're going to see your mom and dad soon. Everything's going to be fine. Okay?" She nodded, still unsure, and then something occurred to him. "Hang on just a sec'," he said to her and the social worker. "I forgot something."

The pair watched as Nick ran over to Warrick's car, opened the front passenger door, and leaned inside, rummaging around for something. He pulled out the brown paper bag that he had retrieved from the lab just before he and Warrick had left. He came back over to the police car, grinning, and crouched down in front of Allison. "I've got someone here to keep you company."

The little girl watched him with intense curiosity as he slowly reached into the bag, heightening the anticipation. Suddenly, he pulled his hand back out and she saw that he held her stuffed tiger that had been found on the sidewalk where she had gone missing. "Max!" she squealed with delight, grabbing the toy from him and squeezing it tightly. "Max, I _missed_ you!"

Nick laughed. "I told you he'd be waiting for you. Looks like he missed you too."

"Thank you, Nick!" She lunged at him, throwing her arms around him and nearly knocking him off balance.

He put his good arm around her and hugged her back. "You're welcome, honey."

"Allison?" Ms. Watkins leaned over and spoke to her. "We'd better get going now. I know your mom and dad can't wait to see you."

The little girl let go of Nick and looked up at the woman as Nick stood up. "Okay." She got into the back of the police car and sat next to Sean. The social worker closed the door and then got into the front seat. As the car drove away, Allison put her face to the window, holding her tiger up in one hand and waving the other one wildly in goodbye at Nick.

* * *

><p>"Heyyy...look who finally decided to show up for work!" Warrick laughed as he entered the locker room at the lab and saw Nick bent over on a bench tying his shoes.<p>

"Yeah," Nick answered as he sat up. "They called me in...said you needed help." He gave his friend a grin.

At that remark, Warrick laughed even louder. "Yeah, picture that. Not even after a week." He grew a little more somber as he watched Nick trying to get his vest on and secure it, struggling with the cast on his left arm. "How you doin' with that thing?"

Nick finished getting the Velcro on the sides attached and then zipped up the front. He slipped a sling over his head and settled the broken arm into it. "Not bad. I can use it pretty much…just have to use the sling then to rest it sometimes."

Warrick nodded. "Cool. So, uh…you hear anything about the case?"

"Yeah." Nick sighed. "Grissom called the other day to tell me. I guess Mrs. Bruner's gonna plead guilty to everything and they'll give her probation in exchange…as long as she passes a mental health evaluation. They're making her stay in-patient at Seven Hills for at least the next six months, then they'll re-evaluate the terms of her probation."

"I don't know, man." Warrick sat down next to him. "Sounds kind of risky for a kidnapper."

"She didn't hurt 'em or try to get money or anything. She just thought…well, you know. And they'll help her deal with that. I don't think she's a threat to anyone."

"Sounds like you're willin' to forgive and forget too."

Nick stood up and put his jacket in his locker and then shut the door and shrugged. "Yeah, well…they asked for my input first and I gave it. The kids are doing okay, and…I think they're doing the right thing with her. And hey…at least I learned something."

Warrick stood up as well and the two of them headed out of the locker room. "Yeah? What's that?"

"Don't ever turn your back on a little old lady."

Warrick laughed and clapped his friend on the shoulder as they went out the door.

* * *

><p><strong>Thanks to everyone who has been reading and especially reviewing. I hope it was worth the wait for the conclusion and that you liked it. Please drop a review and let me know what you think. Thanks again! I really appreciate it! :-)<strong> **And thanks again to Praetor Corvinus for his awesome beta work!**


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